


Meeting My Reflection: Mo' Reflections, Mo' Time

by justonemoreartist



Series: Meeting My Reflection [4]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: BDSM, Elsacest, Elsanna - Freeform, Elsannacest, F/F, F/M, Incest, Multi, Nonromantic Pairing, OT3, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonemoreartist/pseuds/justonemoreartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final chapter in our series. We return to Arendelle, but not the one we know, or the one we love. Long ignored symptoms flare up into an illness that threatens the happiness of our trio, and they must deal with the aftermath of willful blindness. Contains Elsacest, Elsanna, Elsannacest, Kristanna, and Hanna (oh, but it's not what you think...).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Let us begin.”

“No,” Kristoff whined under his breath.

“First, I wish to thank her Royal Majesty.” At this Elsa slightly inclined her head. The ambassador continued. “Her aid in thawing enough of the fjord to allow boats to pass through was most appreciated, both in my own lands and in Arendelle itself. Were it not for her intervention, we might have suffered severe shortages of dried fish and heavy metals, so precious to our communities. Though recent…differences of opinions have caused some degree of strain between us, I assure you, my Queen, that Weselton will extend to you every olive branch out our disposal, every offer of peace and partnership, and every favor of ours that you could ask.”

“Please kill me,” Kristoff whispered out of the side of his mouth. Elsa smiled serenely at the ambassador.

“Secondly, I wish to thank the gentlemen surrounding me, for…” Why was the man still talking? ‘Thanks’ was all he needed to say! How did he manage to pull one word apart into a goddamn speech? He stared in horror as the little man, whose facial hair had more personality than he did, began to list a third reason why he was so stinking thankful. He watched the lips flap up and down, eyes widening when he heard “fourthly” being spoken from far, far away.

Kristoff made a noise that sounded like steam coming out of a broken teapot. Still smiling, Elsa poked him in the thigh under the table. He straightened in his chair at her right, trying not to appear sullen and failing miserably. His fancy clothes itched something awful. He readjusted his collar as the ambassador began to wax nostalgic about his younger years, or something equally inane, and Elsa shot him a look. He leaned over.

“How do you stand this? I can’t even remember who half these people are, let alone care,” he hissed. She regarded the room coolly, taking in each man’s face in turn before deigning to respond, her voice low.

“I have new oil paintings commissioned of each of them every year.”

“How does that help?”

“My aim has improved considerably.”

“…and, last but not least, I come to the matter at hand.”

“Good man!” Kristoff cried, pumping his hand in the air. The councilmen stared at him, and he slowly lowered his fist.

Elsa smoothed a hand over her mouth. Her voice was only somewhat amused when she spoke. “Please forgive his Highness, he has been so eager to attend one of these meetings and see how the kingdom is run. I understand you have questions regarding the fjord…?”

“Yes, quite! You see, your Majesty, whereas it was immensely useful to have parts of the fjord thawed, we at Weselton believe it would be in your best interests to expand this further. If your power is sufficient to thaw fjords now, then surely your control would extend to refreezing them.” As one, the council flinched.

To her credit, Elsa did not. Her eyes narrowed. “And I would wish to do that because…?”

“Because it would be an enormous economic boon. Just imagine the possibilities! If you were to place strategic ice blockades over certain ports during peak trading times, you could force better prices or even completely eliminate them; in this way, Arendelle could dominate and establish monopolies with ease.”

“At the risk of angering numerous countries with particularly powerful armies, you mean.”

“Ah, and that would be where Weselton comes in. You see, I have been given the power by the king to send warships to those ports that you would freeze. I believe their considerable power would be enough to persuade the commanders to give in to your demands. Our navy is quite the pride of Weselton, and the world.”

Yes, that navy. The one that had changed Elsa’s mind about outright forbidding contact with Weselton, despite the charges levied against the Duke and his men; despite the fact that Elsa’s life had been at risk due to his miserly, murderous attitude, angering a nation that was such a prominent naval power was a disastrous move, and Elsa had begrudgingly allowed for apologetic letters to be sent, persuading the court that it was a misunderstanding on her part. ‘Misunderstanding’. Oh sure. As if her sudden anger was a bolt from the blue.

The nobles were bickering, some louder than others, offering their numerous opinions on both the efficacy and morality of such a move. Though she was pleased to see some shaking their heads fiercely and speaking out against the idea, more than a few who were not engaged in their own conversations looked thoughtful, even pleased.

Her lips drew into a thin line. Beside her, Kristoff cringed.

She could see it in her mind’s eye: first it was a simple request, one that had the ring of practicality to it, adulterated by greed, and then the demands would begin. Greater feats of magic, of strength, of power, until the shaky, tentative acceptance of her rule, of her _person_ , by her people was obliterated, and only awe and terror remained. What kind of ruler would she be, to sit upon an iron throne and wield her scepter like a weapon as she brought her power to bear upon mere innocents?

Queen Elsa stood, her chair slipping back against the rug silently. The chattering slowly came to a halt as she walked up to the large windows overlooking the courtyard. Her face was impassive as she watched the snowflakes drift on a gentle breeze.

“And what would you be offering in return?” Several of the councilmen gasped outright, Kristoff being one of them.

“Why, exclusive trading rights to Weselton, access to our-”

Her laughter cut him off. “Do you really mean to tell me that that’s it? That’s your offer?”

He blustered out a reply about hardly finishing it before she could reject it, and she silenced him with a wave of her hand. The laughter was gone from her eyes: in its place was steel.

“I once hid from and feared my power. I believed it a curse, a stain upon myself, my family, my heritage. Now I recognize it for what it is, a part of me, as integral to my own nature as my hands are to my body.”

She drew a finger down the glass, and ice crystals crackled into being in a long trail. Several men swallowed and began to sweat, watching the ice grow with nervous eyes.

“You ask me to draw upon power that can and has caused massive ruin, that has built and sustained sentient life, that almost brought my own kingdom to its knees, and your offer is mere goods and services? At the risk of speaking blasphemy,” and here she paused, watching the ice as it began to twist and flex, light flaring along its length, as though alive. She pinned the ambassador to his chair with a hard gaze. “I wield godlike power, and I have no interest in any trade that would not offer me the same.”

No one spoke. No one even breathed.

“And as, to the extent of my knowledge, Weselton is not the seat of any…divinity, I believe this matter is closed.”

The smile returned to her eyes as the ambassador, quaking slightly, nodded silently. He stood and bowed, his movements stiff, and then left. She watched him leave, eyes following his every move, smirking a little when the door shut behind him. She returned to her seat, sinking down into the plush cushions as Kristoff shifted nervously in his chair. Her eyes were gleaming in a way that made him more than just a little uncomfortable.

“Now, as for the next order of busin-” The doors burst open.

“Elsa! I’m here for the mee-” Anna froze, both hands still pressed against both doors, eyes whipping around the room. “Meeting! The other meeting, not this one, the later one. Later meeting. I am definitely early. For a meeting.”

“Ah, my dear sister.” Elsa’s smile became genuine, her eyes softening. “You’re just in time for tea. If you could call for-”

“Oooh I could help with that!”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that-”

“No no, let me get it! It’s the least I could do for being la-while I’m waiting for the next meeting.”

Elsa’s gaze took in Anna’s appearance, moving slowly over her disheveled hair, flushed neck and shoulders, heaving chest, the rip in her side, the mud on her shoes, and Anna’s eyes widened. She’d once read a book about poisonous snakes, and on one page the author had included an illustration of a serpent lying in wait. Elsa was the spitting image of it, and for once Anna was _very_ glad that everyone was looking her way; things might’ve been awkward if they hadn’t.

“Well then, by all means,” Elsa purred, and Anna quickly crossed her arms over her chest and headed towards the side door which led into a small kitchen.

“Hey, uh, honey,” Kristoff said as she passed. “Do you want any help?” Elsa laid a hand on his arm, and he wilted, an impressive feat for such a large man. She patted him briefly before nodding at her sister and returning her hands to her lap.

“You’ll want to be here for this, it requires your attention.” He frowned, sitting up in his chair.

Anna slipped through the doors as Elsa addressed her council.

* * *

 “Spoons, spoons, spoons…where are the spoons? And why so many stupid forks?”

She made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat as she pulled open another drawer, finding little pre-folded napkins in tiny squares instead of the utensils she was looking for. Unbelievable. She was just about to throw in the towel (oh sure, _those_ were everywhere) and call for help when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Oh good, I was hoping someone would…” She looked around, confused. The tiny kitchen was devoid of anyone but her.

There was another tap at her shoulder. She jerked her head, but again, no one was there.

Her eyes narrowed. Elsa. Very naughty of her, to play the “made you look” game when Anna was trying to do something nice. Kind of impressive too, though: Elsa had graduated far beyond needing to see what she was doing while crafting. Janice loved to test Elsa’s control, and had once devised a game where she would put a series of objects inside of an ice box and have Elsa determine where they were without looking, just by manipulating quick flashes of ice crystals and wind into questing “fingers” that allowed her to discover the location of things, based on sound and the pressure exerted by the object against the wind and ice. She had figured it was only a matter of time before Elsa was going to use it in play; now that she had much greater control of her powers, she delighted in using them, especially since it made Anna so happy to see her pleased with herself.

Another touch, this time on the dip on her collarbone. Oh please, what was the point of that? She could easily see that she was alone, why try to get her to point in some-

A flare of sensation up her inner thigh. She gasped. It was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving her paranoid.

She slowly pushed the door open a crack, peering into the room beyond. A man stood by an easel, describing some sort of law or other, probably, the council members pointed in his direction. Kristoff was still slumped over in his seat, looking dangerously close to twiddling his thumbs, and Elsa was the picture of innocence at the head of the table, her back to the door.

A light touch turned her head towards the windows. Elsa’s reflection watched her from there. Her calm expression didn’t waver an iota when she met Anna’s suspicious gaze. Her eyes widened as she felt fingers dance along her ribs and then smooth over a breast, alternating between cold and hot so quickly she wasn’t sure whether to shiver or sweat.

Elsa winked.

Anna ducked her head back inside the room, smoothing trembling hands down her front. Okay, different game, then. Not that she couldn’t handle it. She and Elsa had been “playing” for a long time now, anyways.

Ghostly fingers caressed her calf, sending little shivers up her leg and-no, actual shivers. She hurriedly pulled her skirts up to confirm that what she felt was real: the icy touch had grown, coating her leg with Elsa’s warm ice, but shafts of cold shot down it rhythmically, her heartbeat spiking with every pulse. Her breath whistled through her clenched teeth as the ice scaled her body, slipping from one leg to the other, because apparently Elsa felt like being an enormous tease and as soon as she got her alone oh... _oh_...

She sank down against the cabinets with a groan, spreading her legs. The action should’ve released some of the heat building between them, but Elsa’s ice raced over her upper body so quickly that Anna felt an answering rush of blood that made her skin burn. Over her stomach, right between her breasts, splitting and outlining her collarbones in throbs of heat and cold, across her upper arms and down her forearms, flaring over her palms and fingers, pooling on her fingertips. She lifted one hand to her face, breathless, examining the alteration: her index and middle finger had been surrounded totally by warm/cool ice, merging them together.

So maybe not so much a tease as an…invitation to play. Anna grinned. She did like her plays.

Sucking her lip between her teeth, she leaned back and began. 

* * *

 

Kristoff stared at his companion. Elsa was perfectly attentive, one hand shuffling through a series of papers as someone droned on about organizing a festival – something about the last one being a dismal failure – but her other hand remained beneath the table, making strange gestures. The tips of her fingers were glowing softly. 

* * *

 

“Ohhhhhh _fuck_ yes,” she whispered, pushing her fingers deeper. Her hips jerked wildly with every temperature shift, to the point where she hadn’t dared to touch her clitoris; the sensation would be far too much, and she wanted this to last.

A spear of cold shot through her core, making her ache with want. Fractals of ice pulsed against her breasts, nimbly avoiding her nipples, just enough to make her press hard against the cabinets at her back for leverage as she rode her hand, shuddering through the pleasure.

She clapped a hand to her mouth as the ice within her suddenly grew, almost to painful proportions. Her eyes rolled back when she thrust her fingers inside again and again, one hand inching hesitantly toward her clitoris. Maybe just a touch…

* * *

“…does the princess need a hand? She’s been in there for some time.”

“I believe she has more than enough hands to do the job properly, though if you would like to help, perhaps you could ask her…?”

“Princess Anna?” the man called, knocking lightly. The answer was immediate.

“ _I’M COMING!_ ” Anna’s voice shot through the room at full volume, rising in pitch until the final note seemed to ring on and on.

All talk halted, the men stunned. Elsa pulled her hand out from under the table and folded her hands together calmly.

“You’ll have to excuse my sister; she tends to be quite vocal about her love of tea.” The men eyed her strangely, but none dared to comment.

“Wow,” Kristoff breathed. He leaned over to Elsa, saying, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

She looked at him, her head tilted to the side, holding his gaze for a long moment. Her lips twitched, and then curled up at the corners. He grinned right back.

“You know, Mr. Bjorgman,” she said slowly, around a growing smile, “you’re all right.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah.”

“…which is why I only feel slightly bad about demoting you.”

“Wait, what?”

One of the council members cleared his throat. “Ah, your Highness, for the past few weeks her Royal Majesty has taken to arguing – fiercely, I might add! – in favor of you relinquishing the duties as Prince of Arendelle that you have…neglected to uphold. This council has requested your presence today to address thi-”

“I am totally for it!” he gasped. The man gave him a disgusted look, but he was beyond caring what some stuffy noble thought about him. “No really, this is great. I mean, uh, I’m okay with it. I’d so much rather be spending the time anywhere else, or with Anna. I mean my wife. Not that I want to make your job any more difficult, Els-your Majesty, but-”

“Trust me, Mr. Bjorgman-” he’d never noticed before how that could be said so affectionately – “any time with my sister is well spent.”

As if on cue, an extremely disheveled Anna thrust a rolling tray through the kitchen doors. “Sorry about how long it took!”

“Spending too much time with your fingers in the honeypot?” Anna jerked upright, about to babble out an emphatic “no, good Lord, Elsa why would you say that in _public_ ” when she remembered: honey goes into tea. The question was totally innocent. Unlike her sister, who was leering at her, chin perched upon her folded hands. Suddenly she didn’t feel so bad about this.

“Ahahaha, well, no, just took a long time to find the…sugar. Right. Anyways,” she said cheerily, walking around the table and setting plates, then napkins, and finally the teacups down in front of the group, each man giving a seated half-bow, half-nod, then placing milk and sugar in the middle of the table. She served her sister last, and Elsa murmured her thanks, noting with pleasure Anna had already made her tea just the way she liked it: milky, with just a hint of sweetness. Kristoff lifted the fork from his teacup in confusion.

She picked up the cup and inhaled, humming as the scent curled around her. She frowned as a familiar, yet currently unnamed smell hit her nose. What was that? Pungent, powerful, yet delicious, warm, and…coming from the bottom of the teacup. She glanced down at her plate and napkin. Her triangular napkin. With a damp patch in the middle. Her eyes bulged. That wasn’t a napkin.

Anna’s skirts swished as she fairly skipped to the other side of the room, twirling around before seating herself on the far table, her legs swinging over the side playfully. She gave her horrified sister a big, lusty wink.

Oh God, where could she put them? Surely someone else would smell it, or worse, see it! Any second now someone was going to look up, but she had no pockets, no bag with her, and what could she use to keep them from scenting her sister’s-

“Before we move on…”

Elsa panicked.

Kristoff gaped as she hurriedly pulled the front of her dress out and deposited the garment directly between her breasts. The ice of her bodice would halt the smell. She had nowhere else to put it, anyways. It made sense. She repeated the sentence over and over again in her head, barely paying attention to the rest of the meeting, nodding only when people looked at her and staying silent the rest of the time. She really hoped she hadn’t just sanctioned any new laws, unable to do much else besides watch the way her sister wiggled in her seat, bouncing her legs, that damnable grin still stretched across her face, her breasts wet with sweat and…something else.

“If there are no more questions-”

Elsa stood quickly. “No more questions, I believe, and with that we will adjourn for today.” Let them grumble at her rudeness: she was the queen, and her needs came first.

The group trailed out chattering softly, and Kristoff hesitated at the door, waiting for them to go. He rubbed the back of his neck, gnawing at his lip, as Elsa regarded him curiously. He cleared his throat.

“Listen, I…I know we haven’t had much to talk about, or much interaction, at all, but…I’d like to say thank you. If not for you and Anna, I wouldn’t know whether or not I would have a roof over my head at night, and now I’ve got that and still have my freedom. That…that means a lot to me. So thank you.” He swallowed. That was the longest speech he’d ever given. Kinda took a lot out of a man. There was a rare glow in her eyes that was normally reserved for her sister.

“And thank you as well, Kristoff, for being so understanding. For everything.” They shared a smile, a queen and a peasant, yet somehow still equal.

He held the door open for her. “Ladies first…?” She shook her head, already chuckling.

“Oh no, I’m not leaving just yet.” She stepped back and smirked at him, stroking the middle of her chest. “I do believe I have another meeting to attend to, among other things.”

His jaw dropped as the doors closed. He stared at the knob as the lock clicked. Barely seconds later there was a muffled thump, followed by a series of smaller ones.

He let out a low whistle. “She’s got a hell of a thirst.”

He could admire that in a woman. 

* * *

 

Janice leaned back against the headboard, Anna’s head in her lap. Elsa had left them early, as she had for the past week, making up excuses about having to examine some foreign rulebook or other. Anna knew that she did go to the library, but for all Elsa struggled with international law, it usually made her more cranky than melancholic. She knew what Elsa was trying to do, and disapproved. She preferred her own method.

Janice’s fingers combed through her unbraided hair gently, stroking her as if she was a cat. It was soothing, in a way. It would have been more so if Janice’s hands didn’t shake.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

They’d been silent most of the evening, Anna having convinced Janice to retire early, on the grounds that she had an upset stomach and just wanted to sit and talk.

Janice’s hands stilled. “Anna, tell me something.”

Anna was quick to respond. “Anything.”

“How did your parents die?”

Anna closed her eyes. Oh. But didn’t she know already? For months afterwards her dreams had been tortured by gurgled cries and underwater screams; she could imagine perfectly her mother’s dying cry, having relived it again and again at night. Father, in her mind’s eye, was always too tall, too proud to waste his last breath on a scream, and in her reenactment he was always striving, to the very end, to reach the surface, clinging to Mother, trying desperately for air and light and life.

“They drowned.” An unspeakable, unknowable tragedy wrapped up in a single sentence. How many others could claim such efficiency in their own deaths?

Janice didn’t wait for her to ask. “My mother died in a fire. I learned of it mere hours later. Following that, my father rapidly succumbed to a wasting illness that had plagued him most of his adult life. I was required to examine their bodies, before burial, to ensure it was them. I didn’t. I don’t know how well they died, as a result. Sometimes I wonder if they died with dignity.”

“…what does that even mean?”

“Well what do you think we’re put on this earth for? Humans are unique amongst other walks of life in that it is our task to learn how to die well.”

Anna shuddered. “I just can’t think like that. How can you waste your life doing that? I’d rather learn to live. Why should I learn how to die with dignity?”

“You don’t need to,” Janice said, and leaned down, drawing Anna’s face close to hers by her fingertips. She kissed her cheek lightly as Anna’s heart fluttered. She pulled back and gifted Anna with a rare, warm smile. “You already know how.”

Anna drew in a trembling breath. She and Elsa rarely spoke of that day, except in cursing Hans’ name or talking about Elsa’s power or using it to mark the day their lives changed, for good. But she had never told Elsa just what it had felt like, to freeze, and she suspected that if Elsa had ever asked, she might have refused her, for the first time in her life. It was a strange feeling, wanting to hide something away from her sister, her best friend, her lover, but it was so painfully personal that the thought of giving that burden to anyone else was too terrible to imagine. But now Janice, blunt Janice, was treating her most frightening memory as if it was this beautiful thing that she alone had had the blessing of experiencing.

“Well…it wasn’t like I planned it, or anything. I just sort of…did it. She was going to die, otherwise. Elsa would say that I act without thinking.” The affection on Janice’s face was almost blinding.

“That sounds more like your voice than hers. When are you going to stop listening to it? You are beloved, Anna, by your sister, by others, by anyone you meet.”

“Not everyone,” Anna whispered, remembering a chill deep in her soul, gloved hands that locked her away, a grim smile that hid sharp teeth within.

“By anyone worth your time,” Janice said, stroking her hair lightly. Anna could feel the tremors against her, and opened her mouth.

The clock chimed.

Janice still sat there with her, but she watched as the woman retreated inward. Her small chuckle sounded like leaves scratching against a battered door. “My own bed beckons, it seems.” She looked down at her arms. Anna’s hands gripped them tightly, though she hadn’t been aware of that happening, and she gently extricated herself from the other woman and stood, the ache in her muscles moving from a sharp one to a dull roar that pounded against her bones.

Anna lay on the bed, watching her go. Janice hesitated at the mirror, about to speak, and Anna’s heart soared. Then she closed her mouth and stepped through, leaving Anna alone. 

* * *

 

Janice stirred her soup idly with her spoon, maneuvering it around chunks of potato as Anna prattled on about her new princeling. Janice’s ring caught the light and she smiled inwardly. It was a small thing, tarnished and bent strangely, made of iron. Her Anna had, when bonding with the blacksmiths in town, convinced them to let her try her hand at making items. She’d said she was planning on making chainmail, but had stopped trying after receiving her fourth burn and decided that it was a ring instead. Elsa had laughed and tapped it lightly, sealing it with some of her warm ice, and it sat on Janice’s index finger, an odd contrast to her signet ring on the other hand.

“Did you just hear a word I said?” Anna asked, her fingers drumming irritably on the table. Her mouth was a thin line. There was no laughter there. She looked like a stranger. Sometimes Janice forgot that she was.

“Yes, yes; this…Hans fellow, he’s a scholar, then? Well done, fine catch.”

“I haven’t said that we’re to be married yet,” Anna said, giggling, as she lifted her hand to her mouth. An engagement ring sparkled there, and Janice almost rolled her eyes at her sister’s lack of tact.

“Of course not. You have to ask for my permission, first.” Janice sipped her wine, looking over at Anna with level eyes. She thought she might have seen the fingers holding her spoon clench, but it was only for a moment.

“Of course,” Anna conceded, and dropped her hands and eyes briefly to her lap, smoothing her napkin. A silence fell over the pair, during which Janice watched the way her hand move above her bowl and Anna watched Janice’s slow breaths.

“May I have your permission?” Her tone was casual, but Janice could feel the desperation seeping into it. She set the spoon down gently, before it could wobble, considering. As far as she was aware, Anna and Hans had met earlier that day and spent the time in the gardens, chattering together like huddled birds. One of her men, who had shadowed the pair, had informed her that Hans was the last in line for his throne, was moderately handsome and fit, dressed and spoke well, and had all the trappings of a man trying to wheedle his way into the heart of a foolish rich girl.

She had also, of course, also learned of a different Hans. But given the differences she could see between her Anna and her world’s Anna, let alone herself and Elsa, it was not entirely fair to assume the worst of this Hans.

“Certainly,” she said, and resumed eating. Anna gawked at her.

“You-you said yes? Just like that?”

Janice shrugged, and Anna continued to stare. “Why not? You seem to like him, and I know that it’s not a decision made lightly.” Anna flinched. Janice resisted the urge to sneer. Besides, Hans, if he had any foresight in him, would have learned by now that Janice had had the rules of succession clarified recently. If he intended to wed Anna for her connection to the throne, he would be unhappy to find that upon her or Janice’s untimely deaths he would be immediately exiled even if the subsequent trial found him not guilty.

“Well, I-thank you, Ja-your Majesty,” Anna said, returning her gaze to her lap.

Janice nodded absently. For a moment, Anna’s hair shone in the candlelight, and she could see laugh lines on her bunching cheeks as Anna babbled merrily about meeting a bunch of kids and giving them candies and chocolates, because she thought love involved cavities, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

Anna looked up and frowned at her, and Janice remembered. She put her spoon down, feeling too nauseous to eat suddenly.

“Were…were you just-”

“It was nothing,” Janice said, sighing. “Nothing at all.” 

* * *

 

Anna tossed the acorn idly, brooding. “It’s not nothing.”

“Pardon?”

“Put the knife down, Kristoff, I’m in needy mode again.”

“When are you eve-okay.” He stopped sharpening the blade, wiping it on his pants before shoving it in the sheath. He shifted in his seat to look at her as she paced. She threw the acorn aside harmlessly, and his eyebrows rose.

“She’s not getting any better.” He didn’t need to ask who. “I’ve tried to bring it up, and so has Elsa, but she just keeps brushing us off. Says that she’s just tired, or ate something that was bad…it’s been a week since New Year’s, and she still hasn’t gained any weight back, her hands shake, and…Kristoff, she’s started wearing _gloves_.”

He watched her walk back and forth, considering his words carefully. “You did say that she was once Elsa. Or, I guess, an Elsa. Do you think she’s regressing?”

Anna sighed and rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes. “I don’t know. Neither of us know much about her past. Well,” she admitted, “besides those few things she’ll let us in on.”

Elsa had, of course, explained to her in full what had happened that first night. She’d been startled to learn of how Janice had attacked her, but Elsa had readily assured her that the other woman was reacting to a threat, and nothing more. Fully intending to hate Janice for what she’d done, and was doing to Elsa, after she listened to the way Elsa spoke fondly of her, of the way she didn’t fear her powers, but rather encouraged their use, and she’d found herself reluctantly persuaded by her words. That and, well, other _persuasions_. She was human, after all. So was Janice; a complicated human, but one she believed she understood.

But recent events had led her to question that understanding. Certainly she knew of a great deal of the woman’s opinions, interests, and attitudes: in some ways she was ready to believe that she and Elsa _knew_ Janice like few others did. But they didn’t have the whole picture, because Janice went through the mirror and into their world, and never the other way around. Anna had asked why they couldn’t, once, and Janice had smiled tightly and informed her that she understood magical crossings were exceptionally dangerous, and that in the absence of an anchor she was unlikely to be heard from again if she tried to force her way through the mirror herself. What followed was a discussion on other magical objects that Janice had become aware of, or at least tales of such, and Anna had bit her tongue, holding back her question, at the sight of her sister’s fascinated, almost painfully hopeful expression.

Elsa hadn’t asked herself. She suspected it was because she feared a rejection.

“I just don’t know if what happened to Elsa happened to her as well.” She looked up at him and frowned. “Something’s wrong.”

“Well yeah, you just said that.”

“No, I mean, something’s missing…” She tapped her mouth. There was Kristoff, seated at the grindstone, with-

Her eyes widened.

“Hey wait, where’s Sven?” He rubbed a shoulder guiltily, and she noted there wasn’t a single bit of reindeer fur on it.

“Ah, right. Remember when he left a couple of weeks ago?”

She shook her head. The weeks before Christmas had either been filled with planning her wedding or recovering from it.

“Well, he went off to go sow his wild oats, like he usually does. Now he’s going back to his herd to check up on all the does he met.”

Despite her worry, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow, really? But you didn’t go with him?”

“Yeah, we’ve kinda butted heads on it before. Literally,” he added, rubbing the top of his head. “I didn’t like it that he’d leave me, because he got really protective of his herd. But I’ve come to realize that a reindeer’s got his own needs, so…”

“So he left you behind?”

“Only for a little while. Oh and before you ask, Olaf went with him. I think Marshmallow did, too; said something like ‘find lover’. I…I didn’t ask him what he meant.”

She groaned and plopped herself down in the dirt next to him. Elsa might’ve winced at the sight of the princess rolling around in the dust: Kristoff moved his foot aside so she could sit more comfortably. “Everyone is abandoning me in my time of need.”

“…did you need to talk to Sven? Because, uh, I kind of have something to tell you about that…”

She punched his knee, and he rubbed it good-naturedly. “I figured that out already, you big lug.” Her smile faded, and she leaned her head against his leg.

He tentatively patted her shoulder. “So…what now? About Janice?”

Good question. “I…don’t know what to do.” She dragged a finger through the dirt. “I guess I just wanted to feel better.”

“Ummmm…will learning to play the lute make you feel better?” She grinned, perking up.

“Yeah! I’ve always wanted to try, actually.”

“Okay, let me get my bag, then we’ll make some sweet music together.”

She glanced around at their surroundings, at the dusty tables and chairs, and quirked an eyebrow at him.

He sighed. “It’s just an expression.” 

* * *

 

Janice gripped the side of the mirror tightly, as though pulling herself through a gale. It felt like every step was over hot coals, sending hissing pain up her legs with every step, making them tremble with the strain.

Elsa and Anna sat together, whispering to one another. Anna was almost hissing at her sister, but Elsa kept shaking her head regretfully. They looked up at her approach and rose to meet her. Anna gnawed on her lip in worry.

Janice was still a beautiful woman, she was just…less of one, now. Her delicate cheekbones, once so high and becoming, cut through the air, looking sharp enough to hurt her skin. Fitting, since there were lesions there that hadn’t been before. Her hands were wrapped in green gloves, ones that admittedly matched her royal robes quite well. It was strange to see the color on her, as usually she preferred to be clad in ice. But she hadn’t worn an ice dress for some time now.

“Ah, my dear ladies, good to see you again; what have you planned for me tonight?”

Elsa folded her arms over her chest. “We planned to talk to you about your sickness.”

Janice’s face tightened. “Yes, that. Well, I’m sure it’ll pass in time, you know how these things are.”

“No, we don’t,” Elsa said, emphasizing each word. “This is not a cold, or influenza; there is something truly wrong.”

The wayward queen drew herself to her full height, looking directly into Elsa’s eyes. “In that you are mistaken.”

Anna wrung her hands, and Janice’s gaze darted to her. She took a few deep breaths, not liking the way Janice’s own breathing seemed far too shallow. She gestured to the armchair, inviting Janice to sit, but she made no move to do so, intently focused on Anna’s face.

“Look,” Anna said, “you haven’t used your power for almost two weeks now. At first I thought it was because you wanted me to feel at home with you and Elsa, because you could make your special ice chairs and I couldn’t, but…I know that’s not true. You love your magic, you love Elsa’s magic, and you wouldn’t give either of them up unless you had to.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, Anna; I appreciate your concern, but I’m quite fine.”

The sisters shared a look, and then took off their necklaces, showing them to her. They were both finely woven gold, beautiful enough as is, but Elsa’s looked strangely bare without the snowflake affixed to it. Janice’s jaw flexed at the sight.

“It shattered by itself earlier today. What of your ring?”

Janice looked down. She slowly pulled a glove off, and Anna stifled a gasp at the sight of her palm, where more lesions had developed. So, both she and Elsa wore gloves to conceal things from others, and for the same reason, too. Janice turned her hand over, revealing the ice ring, fully intact, surrounding the warped metal beneath.

“That’s what I thought: even though the window closes every night, the objects I create have survived, because I retain my power. Your power is…slipping.”

Janice gritted her teeth, trying to force the words out anyways. “This is a fact that I was already well aware of.”

“Then why didn’t you _tell_ us, Janice?” Elsa said, her voice almost as much of an angry hiss. “Did you think we didn’t deserve to know? That it wasn’t a real issue? How can it not be, when everything about you, from your happiness to your ability to hold a conversation to your health is in decline?”

Janice regarded them coldly, but Anna saw through, to the wounded animal within. Kristoff had taken her hunting once, and though she detested the whole affair, one moment stood out starkly, like blood against snow. It was the way the lynx had stood, as though its foot hadn’t been caught, staring down the hunters that approached it cautiously, hackles raised and mouth pulled into a fierce snarl, a fierce opponent that snapped and hissed at all who came near, up until the very moment when a knife plunged into its heart.

Elsa was still speaking. “A month, Janice. That’s how long it’s been since you first got sick, and I mean truly sick. And yes, sometimes you’re better, but those times are few and far between. Your health has been failing for weeks now, and we can’t just let this go on.”

Janice’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t ‘let this go on’? Do I bow to you, you or your sister? Who are you to say where I may come and go?”

“Well,” Elsa began, her eyes blazing, “I could say that you are standing in my home, or I could say that I invited you into my world by my own hand, or I could even say that as the queen of this land I outrank you.” She held Janice’s trembling gaze without flinching, a proud mountain standing tall against a howling wind.

Her face softened. Her eyes were sad. “Or I could say that I love you too much to see you in pain.”

Janice’s shoulders slumped, and she finally sat down, collapsing into the armchair.

“What…what would you have me do?”

Elsa took in a sharp breath, but Anna spoke first. “What _I_ think you should do is just spend some time here resting; not talking with us, or doing anything, just sleeping, and maybe we can have someone come and look at you, or-”

Janice was looking up at Elsa. She remembered a time when it had been the other way around, when a powerful force had stepped into her world, overshadowing her in its might, taking what she needed, Elsa wrapped in chains, but not afraid. Now it was Elsa who was above her, and Janice’s body was wracked with chills, and she found herself wondering if Janice felt any fear. Her eyes asked the question that her tongue did not.

“I don’t agree with Anna.” Janice waited for her to continue and then exhaled slowly when she didn’t. “Then what do you propose…?”

Anna answered. “She wants you to _leave_.”

“I never said that, Anna,” Elsa said, too patiently to be truly calm. “But…I do think you should go.”

“And why is that?” Janice’s eyes were dull.

“Because we have tales of magical objects, too, and not all of them are worthy of wonder. Mirrors in particular do not have good tales associated with them. In fact, of those few stories and descriptions I could find of them, not one had any positive qualities associated with them. Most damaged the user outright, while others simply stole something from them, and the last-” Elsa drew in a measured breath, while Janice waited for the blow. “The last mirror that I read about was one that slowly stole a person’s life away, until they were no more.”

_“A rapid, wasting illness…”_

“And you believe that this is what has been happening.” It was not a question.

Elsa nodded silently.

“And therefore you have decided that the best course of action would be to take no action.”

“No, Janice, it would be to retreat and observe. After all, it…I’m certain it’d just be for a little while-” they all heard the lie, writhing naked and ugly between them “–until you can determine if your health is improving.”

None of them voiced the concern that Janice had doomed herself by stepping through the first time. The thought was too painful to be spoken aloud.

Janice chuckled. If Anna squinted she could see water glittering in her eyes. “Always pushing people away from you, Elsa? You’d think by now you would have learned not to do that.” Elsa weathered the blow, knowing that Janice was in pain.

Anna gripped her upper arms tightly, looking at the ground. “You, Olaf, Sven…everyone’s leaving.” Janice snorted. “Why would you even care about a reindeer?”

“Sven’s _family_.”

“So?”

Anna’s jaw dropped, and Elsa put a hand on her arm. “What she means is that Sven is loved. As are you, Janice. That’s why we have to let you go.”

The woman was quiet for a long time, staring at her naked hand, at the sores on it, like a bloodstain on parchment.

“And if I don’t want to let you go?”

Anna swallowed hard around a lump. She knew how this conversation ended. She’d had it dozens of times, and each time he’d held her gently, explaining that sometimes people need space, but Elsa would be back, in time, and they’d be a family together again, you’ll see.

The last time he’d said that had been two months before their death. They hadn’t even been a family together at their funeral.

Elsa’s eyes were bleak. “It doesn’t matter, does it?” 

* * *

 

Janice looked up at the knock. She inhaled shakily, pressing her fingers to her forehead, trying to quell the nausea that had arisen at the slight movement. She let her hand drop to her side. “You may enter.”

Anna slowly drew the door open and just looked at her for a moment, drawing her eyes over her sister’s form, from the royal robes she had resumed wearing, hanging loosely, to the pale skin of her collarbone and neck, to the controlled chaos that was Janice’s signature hairdo. If she squinted, she could see small patches missing. She bit her lip and stepped inside fully, pushing the door closed. She bore the crown of Arendelle, a gaudy, heavy thing that their father had once worn, on a satiny pillow upon which was sewn the crocus symbol of the royal family. Janice preferred her tiara when merely addressing her council, but when surrounded by her court, a more impressive mask was called for. Anna began walking towards her.

“We have servants for that,” Janice murmured, and Anna stopped. Janice closed her eyes briefly. Always saying the wrong things. If Elsa and Anna were like a pair of doves circling in the sky, winding and twisting around each other in flight, Janice and Anna were like a pair of dancers given different instructions, forever stepping in the wrong direction at the wrong time.

“I just wanted to see you,” Anna said. Her voice was small. It should have been loud and bright. She should be saying something about what she did with Olaf who- who didn’t exist in this world. She frowned and pressed her fingers to her forehead again.

“You see me nearly every day.” She could tell by the way Anna’s eyes darted to the side that this was again not what she should have said, but her sister forged on.

“No, I see the queen. What I don’t get to see is you,” Anna said, pointedly, and set the pillow down on the desk in front of her. She folded her arms and looked at her older sister, her eyes…there was some emotion in them. Janice couldn’t identify it. Some dark shape stirred and roiled in the depths of her eyes. She peered at her, curious, but Anna retreated behind her own mask, leaning back almost imperceptibly.

“Do you want to see me?”

“I would like that, yes.”

“…why?”

Anna blinked rapidly, and then dropped her gaze, dragging a toe lightly across the floor. Janice stared dumbly at the movement and then started, realizing Anna was speaking.

“…and I thought, well, perhaps if I couldn’t do anything to help, I’d at least get to see you some more.”

“Help with what?”

Anna boggled at her. “Are-are you serious?”

“Quite,” Janice gritted out. “Now if you would cease with your games, I co-”

“Janice, you’re _dying_.” Their gaze met, blue against sea-green, and for a moment Janice could remember a time when there hadn’t been that crack there, slicing a jagged line between them, a time when she wore green dresses instead of ice blue, and Anna screamed merrily on their bike while Jan- _Elsa_ chased after her on foot, pretending to be dragons and knights during the days their parents let them out of their lessons to play. A time when Janice didn’t know what it meant to lose something and Anna didn’t know what it meant to give up on something and it was just the four of them, until they were reduced to two, and then to one.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” She pulled off a glove and lifted her hand: a sphere of ice coalesced in her palm. “There you are, proof that I-”

The ice shattered and collapsed into smoke. Janice stared at her empty palm, suddenly breathless.

Anna was trembling. “You _are_ dying,” she repeated, and swallowed. Suddenly she started laughing, and clapped a hand to her mouth. Her eyes were watery when she took it away. “And yet here you stand.”

Janice sneered, her hand tightening into a weak fist. “What else am I to do, kneel? Do you think I haven’t been searching for the cause?”

“Of course not, I know that you-” Anna’s shoulders slumped, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Janice, startled, drew back.

“What have you discovered?”

Janice smoothed a hand idly down her front to quell the shaking. “Nothing much, I’m afraid. I can be certain I haven’t been poisoned, seeing as all of my food is tested and I breathe the same air as everyone else. Perhaps there is some other route I haven’t considered.” She had done more than just consider one. The mere thought of it pained her more than her ill health did.

Anna was wringing her hands. She quickly threaded the fingers together and dropped them down against her. “So you suspect foul play.”

“Of course I suspect-” Janice stopped, biting her tongue. Anna stared at her in confusion.

“What’s gotten into you? And I don’t mean whatever this…illness is. You’ve been sick for maybe a few weeks, but acting strangely for…God it might even be a year now. I come in for breakfast and you’re not there – Gerda tells me your first meal is almost at lunchtime – and then you retire early. You’ve not written any new plans for furthering your conquest, and if even _I_ heard about the splinter groups from Weselton and Princetown that captured one of your flagships before you did, something’s wrong. And now you just…something’s _wrong_.”

“My mind has, admittedly, been elsewhere, but I can assure you-”

“You’ve never been able to promise me anything,” Anna said quietly. “That’s why you always got along better with Father. You matched.”

Janice opened her mouth, and paused. The blow hit her as if slowed down considerably: she had heard the words before, but they had usually been screamed at her. This time the burn ached for longer, so much so that it seemed to sink down to her very bones and settle around them like so many hands grinding knives against her sensitive flesh. Her hands felt cold.

“Anna, I’m…” Something trembled at the edge of her vision, like a memory, or a feeling, or a word. She remembered its shape, how it felt on her tongue, what it sounded like in her mouth, and spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Anna stared at her. “You…” She looked down in what was a recurring pattern: neither could hold each other’s’ gaze for too long. “You’re sorry. Tell me, _Elsa_ , how sorry are you?” she spat.

Janice did not speak. She didn’t think Anna wanted her to.

“Were you sorry that day, or just angry that he never got to see you crowned? See how much you deserved it, all of his love and attention, how you deserve everything? How much of your ‘sorry’ is wasted breath? Some? All?”

Janice turned away.

Anna made a disgusted noise. “I’ve seen it, you know. The portrait you put above your desk. Just had to find the one without Mother, didn’t you? It’s not like you cared for her much anyways.”

“If you still hate me,” Janice said slowly, “why do you care for my wellbeing?”

“It’s not like I’d hate you to the point of not attending your fune-” Janice closed her eyes. Her back trembled and her scars burned. Her skin was so easily damaged now.

“Get out.” She tried not to imagine Elsa’s face. They looked so different. Her hands were aching.

She heard Anna clear her throat. Her voice sounded thick. “Your people are waiting for you, your Majesty.”

“Let them wait.”

Anna’s footsteps retreated, and the door opened. She heard a small noise, but before she could turn back the door had closed with a soft click. She stroked the crown with her fingertips, thinking. She lifted it – when had it grown so heavy? – to her temples and settled it over her hair. Some strands came away when she did so, and she stared at them, so small and thin against her palm.

She flung them violently to the side and stalked to the door. Pain radiated up her feet to her weak legs.

It didn’t matter. She had a job to do.

* * *

 

“You’re up late.” Anna shifted in the armchair, drawing her knees tighter against her chest. It made her feel better.

“Not really,” she mumbled. Elsa looked down at her for a moment, then made a shooing motion, and Anna obligingly moved over, allowing Elsa to sit down and lean against her side.

The mirror stood in front of them. The room within it was dark, as it had been for weeks now. It felt longer. Waiting always did make the years drag on.

“Gotten used to being awake at this time.” Elsa nodded and tucked her head against Anna’s shoulder. Her warmth sank deep into the queen’s bones. Once it had been enough, just to know that she was loved, had been loved, all those long years. Once it had been enough to lose herself in Anna’s kiss, feeling her body and soul respond as one to her passion, her sincerity, to the simple truth that beat in her heart. Somehow it wasn’t enough now. Something was missing.

“It’s funny, y’know? How just a little bit of distance makes her seem so small.”

The bedroom beyond, so similar to the one they were in now, was silent, save for the soft breaths of the sleeping woman. Her hair was so much more unruly at night than it was during the day: she might’ve found it cute, months before, but now it just made her stomach twist in knots, like the sheets around Janice’s legs when she tossed and turned during those few hours when they could see into her room, when the window was open and there she lay, covered in blankets and yet bare to the world. Elsa had removed the thin pane of ice she’d forced over the mirror weeks ago, now confident that Janice would not try to sneak through. She had, before, when Elsa was far too distracted to maintain the separation, and when she had returned from her foray in the library, unable to sleep herself, she had caught her sister and Janice conversing, Janice in the wrong world. Elsa had been furious that they would disregard her safety, and Anna had clapped a hand on Janice’s shoulder, intending to inform her sister that it was love that Janice needed in order to heal fully, not rejection.

Janice had dropped like a stone, her legs crumpling beneath her.

She hadn’t needed to say anything more after that.

Anna groaned lightly, dropping her head to her knees. “Ugh. Can’t sleep now, but my body still makes me feel crummy. It’s not fair.”

Elsa chuckled, the vibrations feeling good against her side, even if she clearly wasn’t amused. “Well, so long as you promise me you’re not sick…”

Anna made a small noise, and Elsa immediately wrapped her arms around her shoulders, kissing her hair gently.

“Was this what it was like, waiting for me?” Elsa considered this. She remembered how time seemed to slow, even as her heart beat faster and faster, as Anna fell, innocent, trusting, the ground reaching up to break her apart, Elsa throwing out her arm in desperation, the bolt hitting its mark, her limp, cold body, the frantic ride, the trailing reminder of her curse, the door closed by her own hand, quarantining herself to keep her safe, the girl that waited for her every day, until that girl was replaced by a youth, then by a woman, and she knew nothing and everything about her all at once.

She pressed her lips firmly against Anna’s forehead. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Anna turned her head and laid it against her sister’s neck. “I find it helps to have someone to hold onto.”

They didn’t return to bed that night, holding vigil until the dawn.

* * *

 

 “Prince Hans, your Majesty.” The servant indicated the well-groomed man to his left with a bow.

She dismissed the servant without so much as a look, eyes trained on the prince. The study doors closed with a soft click behind him.

The prince bowed in a fluid motion, more like an actor in some scene than a noble addressing a monarch, as if there were any real difference, and she noted with distaste that he never dipped even an inch below what was considered polite. Calculated insubordination. She could admire that in a person, even if it made things more difficult for her. Her hands were shivering.

He straightened, his immaculate coat making him appear larger that he really was, like some beast in the woods. She imagined thick fangs behind his lips, and they flashed into existence, dripping saliva as a snarl rumbled in his throat. She blinked: he eyed her expectantly, fully human. When she did not speak, he did. “You summoned me, your Majesty?”

She folded her hands over her desk. “Yes. You intend to marry my sister.”

“…I believe it is too early for me to presume-”

“And yet the ring that sits on her finger right at this very moment proves you a liar, therefore I find it entirely within my rights to demand your reason for flouting both custom and convention.” To his credit, he hid his surprise well. Masks, so many masks. What color was hers? She knew, once. She remembered the feel of it against her face. But now her skin was raw and naked and tingling with pain. Somewhere along the way it’d been pulled off, and she hadn’t the strength to put it back.

The wolf circled her.

Hans hadn’t moved.

“I admit that I care for the girl, and therefore gave her a token of my love. If she decided to interpret that as an offer of marriage, well, I do apologize for being so forward, I of course would seek your permission before beginning an actual courtship.”

Janice nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think me stupid?”

“Why no, your Majesty.” Her leg spasmed painfully.

“Do you think her stupid?”

“Of course not!” Good show; he almost sounded upset. They’d make an excellent pair; her with her doe eyes and him with his fangs. She supposed there was something romantic about it.

“Then I expect you to speak the truth.” He nodded reluctantly. She tried to shift in her chair discreetly. His eyes followed her every move.

“I gave her permission to marry as she pleases. For some reason that includes you.” She waited for him to smile. “I presume she will return with you?” The light in his eyes dimmed.

“Ah, I’m not sure that she would like the Isles. It’s quite different from her own home.”

“And yet you appear to be adapting remarkably.”

“I have been welcomed with open arms: it’s quite the difference.”

“Pity, that.” She considered the backs of her hands. He waited, his jaws open, saliva dripping down onto the desk. The desk was dry.

Her curiosity got the better of her. “Do you care for her?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He hadn’t even hesitated. A practiced liar.

“I suppose that makes two of us,” she said, softly. The ‘once’ went unsaid. He made a noise of endearment.

“Oh, I see; you couldn’t bear to part with your younger sister. I understand. I come from a large family myself, and whereas we might not all get along, they’re still family. It’s good that you’d like to keep your sister nearby.”

She smiled at him. It helped combat the nausea. “Oh, you know what they say; keep your friends close, family closer, right?” He heartily agreed. She imagined his head on a pike.

He frowned at the corner. “Last time I was here there was a mirror. Did you have it moved? Huh”, he said, at her sharp, jerky nod. “Well, it did seem a little strange, having a mirror in one’s study.”

“You’d be surprised what your reflection can tell you,” she said. The sounds warbled in her throat.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never really cared for mine.”

There was a knock at the door, and the servant reentered.

“I believe that is your cue to go, Prince Hans.” He bowed once more; lower this time, but more stiffly; and walked toward the door.

Almost to the door, he paused. He took a breath, as though carefully considering his words. Such a pretty little act.

“If I may be so bold,” he said, his words lisping through the sharp teeth that…that weren’t there, “you seem rather protective of your sister.”

“Of course: why wouldn’t I be? Did you expect me to abandon my own blood at the drop of a hat, to avoid seeing her at every turn, to run off to some distant land, some strange world of…of…” Her eyes widened.

He was right in front of her. He was miles away. He was at the door. Her hands itched when he spoke.

“Perhaps she would like to know that.”

He was gone.

The servant came to the queen’s side. His rabbit nose quivered against his whiskers. The man was clean-shaven.

“Well?”

“Books on poetry, astronomy, classical Greek texts, a variety of clothes, personal effects…nothing damning, or even suspicious.”

She considered this. It didn’t make sense. She nodded, not trusting her hands, and the servant quickly left.

The sweeps had turned up nothing. None of the foreign dignitaries were hiding anything dangerous behind their fanciful words and beautiful clothes. Her doctors were baffled, and told her as much. Some were willing to prescribe remedies, anyways, which she declined. Others had the temerity to suggest there was a natural cause, but how could there be? And yet there was nothing lurking in the shadows, no hidden assassin who waited with baited breath for her to collapse. For all his clear interest in the throne, if Hans was the cause of her illness, he was using a means she had never seen before. Perhaps magical? Highly unlikely. After all, wasn’t she entirely alone?

No. She used to be, but now…

She looked up, at the spot where the mirror used to be.

She shook her head, lost in her own thoughts, and a single hair landed on the table in front of her. It had an odd, dark band to it. It contrasted sharply with the white band running along her fingernails. It was almost like a reverse image, beautiful, in a way.

Her stomach clenched painfully. This should have alarmed her.

She didn’t have the strength to care. 

* * *

 

“You’re up late.”

Janice turned to see Anna at the door, clad in a nightgown, holding a candlestick. She hadn’t knocked. Janice sighed and waved her inside, or tried to. What actually happened is she lifted her hand and waggled it, the fingers too numb to do more than hang limply. She settled herself back against the headboard, knees to her chest. Anna slipped inside and set her candlestick beside the lit lamp. They looked odd, side by side. They didn’t match.

“You’re also awake.” Anna’s eyes were gleaming in the faint starlight that trickled through the small windows. Janice was swathed in darkness. She imagined herself as a huntress lying in wait for the unsuspecting deer to creep closer.

“I often go for walks at night. I like the castle when it’s quiet. It just feels like I’m all alone while the whole world is sleeping. It’s comforting, to be alone, sometimes.”

Janice nodded. She knew the feeling. Or, rather, had known. When had that changed?

Anna stepped towards her, legs as long and thin as a fawn’s. She even had the bright coloring of one. It had made it that much harder to find her when they played hide and seek in summer, back when Elsa’s too-thin cheeks were rounded with baby fat and Anna’s slow speech was peppered with immature giggles as they raced around the gardens.

Elsa was gone now. But Anna was still here.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired, weak, inclined to restless sleep and disinterested in anything at all.” It came out in a breathless rush, one powerful enough to blow Anna back a step.

“I…didn’t really expect an answer, or even one that sounded…truthful,” she admitted. She bit her lip and looked away. Her gaze fell on the bedside mirror, turned away, and Janice stood hurriedly, bumping the table as she did. Anna glanced down as the bejeweled scepter and orb rattled, and lifted an eyebrow.

“Do you really keep these by your bedside?”

“It’s a reminder of who I am, every day. I’ve done so for years.”

They used to sleep in the same room together. Then someone had decided that she was too old for childish pursuits and too weighed down by a grasping younger sister; her mind was needed on other matters, to focus and hone her talents. She couldn’t remember who that someone was. She didn’t know if she could forgive them.

Her knees buckled, legs failing her, and she threw out an arm. Anna quickly reached out for her, grabbing her forearm. Her skin wailed at the touch, agony sinking sharp fangs in the shape of long fingers into her flesh.

“Don’t touch me!” Janice screamed, yanking her hand out of her grip.

The cry ripped her throat apart, blood cascading down her front, Anna gasping at the sight, and-

She brought a trembling hand to her throat. The intact skin burned in response. Coughing weakly, she gestured at the air, and for a solitary moment a glass appeared. Then it vanished like so much smoke.

Anna had been watching her silently, her eyes hard. Her jaw tightened: Janice could see the muscles move beneath the skin. “And now you’re finally at my level. Tell me, how does it feel to be cast into the dirt? Enjoying your time down here, with the rest of us mortals?”

“I never treated you like dirt, Anna,” she said quietly. She still felt raw.

“No. That would involve treating me like anything at all.”

Janice turned away.

Anna laughed. She sounded like the sweetest of birds. The sound of it hurt Janice’s skin. “Always turning your back on me.”

What could she say to that? Besides the truth? Janice found she hadn’t the strength to do so. Had this illness truly brought her so low? Or had she been this frail all her life, and only just now realized the effort it took, to keep reaching out a hand, to find no one waiting there?

Her footsteps moved away, and Janice almost had room to breathe. They returned, and she tensed.

“I should think you’d have learned by now not to do that, Elsa,” the stranger said.

Janice’s eyes widened: she whirled, but too late. Far too late.

She felt a blinding pain and her world spun, twisting strangely.

The mirror jerked around as her flailing hand grabbed it. Then her grip failed.

Something heavy landed on the floor beside her head. A scepter.

She looked up into the coldest eyes she’d ever seen.

And then into nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

A ringing cry, as if underwater, woke her. A wounded animal, dragging itself away from the knife, leaving a bloody trail behind it.

Anna slowly came to, opening her eyes to complete darkness. Well, not complete: a dim light fell on the bed. She sat up and looked around for the sound. When it didn’t come again she slipped over the side of the bed, stepping into her boots. She peered into the darkness for her sister, but the other side of the bed was cold, and unslept in. So why did she hear someone murmuring? Movement at the corner of her eye drew her attention to the mirror in the corner: through it a woman bent over something, motioning a man at the far door closer. She squinted, and the view leapt into focus. Her hand shot to her mouth. It was Hans. Hans and… _her_. They were looking over-

She almost screamed at the sight of Janice’s prone form, blood matted on the back of her hair, a bloody scepter near her hand.

“Hurry up! Do you want to get caught?” Their voices sounded far away, though they were close enough that she could take a few steps and touch them, but thankfully too focused on Janice’s…on Janice to notice her. Anna quickly crouched almost behind the frame of the mirror, watching the scene unfold with one wide eye.

“Who would see? Besides, we wouldn’t have to worry about it if you hadn’t held up your side of the deal,” Hans hissed at Anna’s twin, who merely growled and dug into her pocket for a small vial.

“It wasn’t _my_ fault; she stopped appearing at court for some reason, so she wasn’t wearing the crown long enough: the doses were too low to kill her outright. Thallium! It had to be your precious thallium! Why didn’t you give me arsenic?”

“You think even having my men in place as doctors would be enough to keep suspicion at bay if you had used arsenic? Think, Anna.”

“It still took too long; you know how much she suspected.”

“It did enough,” Hans said, propping the limp queen up against the side of the bed. Her head leaned dangerously and Hans gripped her chin roughly to hold her in place, grimacing as saliva stained his glove. “Just use it quickly, before she comes to.”

Anna’s heart leapt to her throat as the other woman pulled on a pair of her own gloves, and she had a wild thought of running through the mirror. It was crazy and unlikely to work; she had no idea how the magic object worked, whether she’d be trapped between the worlds if she wasn’t invited in, if Hans and _that_ woman had a whole group of guards at their backs, if Janice was even going to live. Every thought was like a bolt to her heart.

The woman unstoppered the bottle. Anna stood. No time for thought. Just action.

She leapt.

Hans looked up with a start. “What the he-” His words cut off abruptly as Anna’s foot swept upward, striking him under the chin hard enough for him to nearly sever his tongue with his teeth, his head snapping back. He collapsed and screamed, the sound a twisted echo of a real scream, his mouth quickly filling with blood.

The princess gaped up at this new attacker, identical to her down to their braids, but with an animal snarl on her lips. “Who-who…who _are_ you?” Anna grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet.

“This, princess, is your conscience speaking,” Anna said, drawing her arm back. “And she says: _Fuck you_.” Her fist shot forward.

The other Anna slammed to the ground, her lip bloody and torn, and her hands spasmed on impact, liquid flying out of the bottle. It coated her arms and shoulders in shining droplets, and she spluttered and gagged against the ones that had fallen into her mouth, swallowing some in the confusion. She trembled, grabbing her throat.

“A-Anna?” Janice asked, staring up at her blearily. Her eyes were unfocused, but she reached for her, and Anna quickly grabbed her hand. She bit her lip, her eyelashes wet, and wrapped her arms around the woman.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m right here, hang on, we need to get you up, okay?”

“Anna? My Anna?” Janice said, and frowned. “You…you’re here?”

“Yes, and now _we_ shouldn’t be, okay?” Anna grabbed Janice around the stomach and began to pull her upright, grunting under the strain of her deadweight. She gasped as the doors burst open.

A pair of concerned guards stood just inside, taking in the situation: the Southern Isles prince rolling on the ground, his face twisted in pain and blood bubbling out of his mouth, staining his neck and shirt, the princess of Arendelle, sitting stunned, covered in a strange liquid and dripping blood from a gash on her lip, and the near comatose Ice Queen of Arendelle being led to her feet by an incredibly scary looking double of the princess.

“Perfect timing! Look, they were attac-” Anna’s words were cut off as one of the guards rushed over to her twin.

“Prince Hans!” the other guard cried, and hurried to the downed prince. Neither of the two spared their wounded queen a second glace. Anna stared at them, stricken, as Janice’s weak arms clutched at her, her grip so light she barely felt it.

“Anna!” Elsa called from the mirror, hands gripping the edge tightly, and Anna’s twin was startled back into movement.

“How many of-oh for, what are you waiting for?” she screamed at the guards, “just shoot them!” The man at her elbow pulled the revolver out of his holster obediently, and Elsa raised her hands. The four of them jerked back in alarm, Hans quickly pushing himself away across the carpet, as frozen fire burst into existence, flaring up from all sides, surrounding them in crackling flame. The other guard quickly began to draw his own weapon, but Elsa was there: tangled roots shot from the ground, wrapping themselves around the legs and arms of the small group. The other Anna cursed as one wound its way around her neck, the end of it curling over her mouth. A light appeared at the open door.

“What-wh…what on Earth is happening in here?” Gerda said, clutching the edge of her shawl to her as she stared at the confused scene within. The hand that held the candlestick shook. Anna looked up at her, her hand bloody from supporting Janice’s head, and their gaze met. She was startled to see thick bags under her eyes, severe lines across the woman’s face, and a plethora of age spots dotting her forehead. So even Gerda was different, here.

She became aware of how different when the woman said, “I thought this would be over with by now; who are _they_?”

“Anna, please, tell me, what’s happened?” Elsa begged at her side, her hands shaking as they gripped Janice’s other arm.

“We’re _leaving_ , that’s what’s happened,” Anna answered, and Elsa wrapped Janice’s arm around her neck to match her sister.

“And we’re taking her back with us because none of you good-for-nothings deserve her,” Anna yelled. She jerked her chin at the other woman, who glared venomously at her. “And that is the poison she’s been using on Janice, along with _that one_ over here,” she sneered at Hans, whose tears were mingling with his blood, staining the carpet, “so I hope you’ve got someone to clean things up because good _bye_.”

“Guards! _Guards!_ The Queen has been attacked!” Gerda called into the hall. The sound of numerous heavy footfalls came well before the echoes faded. Elsa and Anna exchanged a terrified look.

“I can’t…I can’t keep them all at bay, unless…unless I…”

“Then we’ll shut the door,” Anna decided, and Elsa’s eyes widened, but she nodded. Janice’s limp head wagged against her chest as they drew her towards the mirror, waiting patiently in the corner.

“My lady, are you all right?” The pounding increased in volume, hard against the hallway floor.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon!” Anna gasped, and they moved faster.

“Halt!” The sound of boots on carpet.

They dragged her over the threshold.

The repetitive click of hammers cocking back.

Anna released her grip on Janice and spun, facing the mirror and the raised weapons, gleaming dangerous in the faint light, attached to men who bore no allegiance to their master, but instead stared coldly back at her. She darted forward, and they fired.

“Anna, look out!” Elsa cried, reaching for her, but Janice’s weight brought her to the ground. A bullet shot through the mirror and struck the bedpost; two more tore through the edge of her dress, and Elsa felt a lance of searing, burning pain as a third sliced open her skin in a thin, bloody line across her upper arm.

Anna gripped the side of the mirror and shoved, hard. Elsa watched, breathless, as the guards ran at them, their forms turning, tilting, following the path of the mirror as it fell. One of the men thrust his hand through.

The mirror hit the ground and shattered. One of the pieces cut Janice on the cheek.

Kristoff and Gerda burst into the room, the man wielding an axe while Gerda stood a step behind, clutching her shawl and a candlestick. She gasped, once.

“Gerda! Please, I can’t explain, but she’s been hurt!” Elsa said, holding Janice up against her chest. Anna stood by the broken mirror, her eyes wide with fright and terror. There was a burn mark across the side of her bodice.

“She got hit in the back of the head, and she’s been poisoned, and may also be suffering from something magical and-”

“Your Majesty, you’re bleedin-” Elsa almost screamed in frustration. “ _No¸_ Gerda, it’s nothing, please, please, we need help!”

Gerda turned to Kristoff, who was holding his axe as though it would protect him from the barrage of words. “Wake Kai immediately. He’ll call for a doctor.” He nodded frantically and took off, nearly tripping over the books lying by the door. Gerda strode toward the kneeling pair and crouched at Janice’s head. “Let me see it.”

Elsa obligingly lifted Janice’s head, smoothing away the matted hairs so Gerda could examine the wound. Several deep incisions were present, oozing blood, and Gerda was silent as she assessed the damage. “She’s likely concussed, but it looks worse than it is.”

“But that’s not all; she’s been poisoned, and for some time,” Anna said, her voice high and strained. Elsa was deliberately not looking at the bloodstain on the floor.

“What kind of poison was it?” Gerda asked, ignoring the cold as she smoothed the ice of Elsa’s dress away to examine her arm. Elsa flinched as some of the crystals fell into the wound, but did not otherwise complain.

“The…the other me – I’m sorry, I wish I could explain, but – she said it was thallium…I don’t know what that is, but she was using it on Janice’s crown, and Janice would wear it, and I guess it made her sick, and-” Gerda looked up at her in alarm. “She’s been poisoned by something you don’t recognize, via the skin, and you’re _touching her_?” Anna’s hands jerked away from Janice’s arm. “Get away – _both_ of you – right now!”

Elsa shifted away from the limp woman, gently setting her down, and then stood, wringing her hands. Janice lay there between the three of them, her eyelids fluttering. She looked so thin.

“Wash your hands, immediately.”

“But we haven’t any water,” Elsa whispered. Gerda shot her an exasperated look. “You are an _ice mage_.”

Elsa blinked stupidly. She hunched her shoulders and summoned her ice, melting some into the large basin that appeared, and Gerda waved her over to the chair she drew forward. Anna and Elsa hurriedly washed their hands at Gerda’s urging, Anna more slowly than her sister, distracted by the sight of the deposed queen.

“A-anna? Are you…are you…” Janice said, her voice sounding sluggish. One of her hands slowly came to her forehead, pushing through her hair clumsily. A whole clump of it fell away.

Anna knelt at her side, hands hovering over her body, her vision obscured for some reason. “Yes, I’m here, Janice, I’ll always be here, okay?”

Janice nodded, seeming pleased with this response, and tried to lift her arm. Anna’s tears spilled over; she wanted desperately to grip her hand. Elsa stood over and away from them, hands pressed over her mouth, body quaking.

A floral pattern appeared at her side, and she quickly took Gerda’s shawl with a tight, pained smile. She wordlessly wrapped the garment around her hands and leaned over Janice, gently taking her hand. Janice smiled dazedly up at her.

“You look just like Mother,” she whispered. Her brow furrowed. “I wish…I wish I could’ve saved you…” Anna tried not to choke.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re here, we’re together, and it’s going to be okay, all right?” Janice looked up at the ceiling; she wondered what she saw.

“We’ll always be together,” Janice murmured. “That’s what you said, remember? And I…no, no, it was me who said that. But I lied, didn’t I?” Anna heard Elsa begin to sob.

“No, Jani-” Anna bit her tongue, considering, and then began again. “Elsa, it’s okay, I forgive you.”

Janice smiled. “You always were better at saying that than me,” She frowned, lost in a memory, or a series of ones. “And better at games, or reading, or numbers, and I was…jealous, because I was supposed to be.” She slowly drew her gaze to Anna’s face, to the tear tracks that cut across her cheeks. “And I just…I wanted to be better than you. Because I thought I had to be, for Father, for the Crown. But that wasn’t fair, was it?”

Anna silently shook her head.

“How…how can you forgive me for that?”

Anna inhaled shakily, and looked up at Elsa. Gerda was holding the taller woman, stroking her back as Elsa quivered. Her eyes were filled with raw pain as they met Anna’s.

“Because I know that, for every time you rejected me, every time you said no, deep down you loved me.”

Janice was quiet beneath her, and for a time all Anna could hear was her rushing heartbeat.

“I did, once.”

Anna closed her eyes. Beneath her eyelids, an image arose, called up from the darkness.

“Once I froze the pond in the gardens on my birthday, and we skated for hours in the middle of July. Do you remember that?”

_“She’s taking water in too fast; into the boats, quickly!”_

“You made me a picture of it, years later, and slipped it under my door. I never told you, but I kept it in my desk. It…it made me feel calm.”

_A roiling, surging wave, towering above like the wrath of God, a blow waiting to fall…_

“Paint me a picture, will you? Of us on a ship, out on the ocean.”

_Bubbles rising, bursting at the surface, bodies struggling upward…_

“I just…I wish I had told you.”

A tear landed on her cheek.

Elsa gave a weak cry as Kristoff crashed into the door, dragging a stunned doctor and sleepy Kai along with him.

Anna had eyes for only one person. She placed her covered hand against Janice’s face. One of the lesions had opened, staining the edge of the shawl.

“You’re telling me now, and that’s all that matters, okay?” Janice nodded, her eyes falling closed.

“Your Highness, if you please, I could examine her.” The doctor.

“Anna, I know you don’t want to, but please, let him look at her, okay?” Kristoff.

“I think we’ll need to bring her to a safe room, first.” Gerda.

“Mr. Bjorgman, if you please…?” Kai.

A hand on her shoulder. Elsa. Anna moved her hands away, and Kristoff wrapped a blanket around Janice before lifting her up.

Elsa knelt beside her sister. She slipped her hand into Anna’s.

“Will she…do you think she…”

Elsa’s hand squeezed.

“We can only pray.”


	3. Chapter 3

_March 11 th: First day of observation (Note: Began at 1:29 AM). _

_Patient brought in and examined. 26 year old+ Arendellan+ woman, 5’ 8”, estimated 90 pounds (normal weight: 120-125+), wearing a thin, bloodstained nightgown, hybrid ice/metal ring. Presented with multiple issues: to be described in order of initial observance._

_Three repeating incisions on the right side of the temporal region, 1.7 inches long x .5 inches wide x .4 inches deep, likely caused by a single blow from a patterned instrument._

_Course of action: Rinsed, cleaned, and sewn shut. Will remove bandages at set times to check for infection and remove pus._

_Evidence of concussion: losing consciousness, confusion upon waking, sensitivity to light, inability to maintain normal conversation, cannot recall new information._

_Course of action: Under constant supervision. Roused from sleep every hour; patient recognizes own name, does not understand where she is, and claims a date 26 years in the future._

_“Thallium” poisoning: Both of her Majesties claim that patient has been poisoned, possibly over the course of several weeks/months, with an as yet unidentified substance, via contact with the skin through an infected crown. Precautions have been taken to avoid contact. Possible magical influence: noted, and ignored._

_Symptoms: Nausea*, rapid weight loss+, hand shaking, lesions on hands and face, diverse alopecia, dark-banded strands of hair, sensitivity of the arms, hands, legs and feet (especially hands and feet) to touch, weakness of the legs+, loss of emotional wellbeing+, loss of concentration*+, possible hallucinations*+, loss of magic+._

_Course of action: Under constant supervision. Diet: warm broth, bread and water. Assistants scouring medical and chemical journals for information on “thallium”._

_Medical History: Unknown. Heart and lungs sound good, patient exhibited distress upon palpation of abdomen, but no large masses were discovered. Limbs are all present, fully formed and hands and feet contain all digits; eyes, ears, nose and mouth are clear of any abnormalities. Teeth are in good condition, indicating long term health in spite of recent illness. Has not borne any children+. No known sensitivities+. Small, circular distribution of scars on lower left back, possible signs of healed bout of smallpox+. Despite alopecia, hair is relatively short and mussed; described as normal+._

_Bears striking resemblance to her Majesty (Queen). Will consult her personal doctor for specificities regarding health._

_* = could be associated with concussion, head wounds._

_\+ = as recounted by her Majesties._

_March 12 th: Second day of observation. _

_Patient slept restlessly and remained completely awake during the hours of 10 PM – 2 AM. Would respond to her name but did not understand where she was or when: repeated erroneous date. Was able to recall information that was relayed to her over the course of several seconds, minutes, and hours. Asked repeatedly for her Majesties, particularly the Princess. Suffers under the delusion that the Princess is her sister. Attempt at maintaining a quarantine failed: both her Majesties demanded and received entrance. Patient moved to another room due to compromised integrity of the first._

_Ate little and vomited twice, drank all water given to her. Dressing on scalp changed: wound is typical. Several clumps of hair fell out during cleaning: have preserved and will be examining later._

_Note: assistants have not yet uncovered information about “thallium” via most recent journals._

_March 13 th: Third day of observation. _

_Patient slept restlessly until her Majesties entered: fell into deep sleep at 11:45 PM after twenty minutes, and remained asleep until 7:20 AM. Have worked out compromise wherein her Majesties may enter for a period so long as they remain away at all other times. Remains confused as to her location, but remembers that she is not related to her Majesties. When informed of correct date became irritated but did not reject it. Hands continue to shake; have wrapped lesions in dressings and will treat them as ordinary wounds. Arms and legs sensitive to touch: can walk but a few steps before collapsing, combination of pain from feet and muscular weakness._

_Dressing on scalp changed: wound is typical._

_Ate little. Complained of nausea and admitted to feeling hungry: refused food. Continues to drink water well._

_Note: assistants have not yet uncovered information._

_March 14 th: Fourth day of observation._

_Remains confused as to her location. Her Majesty (Queen) suggests possible magical cause to illness; her Majesty (Princess) believes it to be entirely natural. Former has examined several books on magical objects: no information on possible treatments. Latter suggests that “thallium” may work akin to arsenic; if so, heavy metal/metal poisoning treatments may suffice. Cannot perform tests lacking substance._

_Was able to finish all of the broth but refused to finish bread, drank all water._

_Dressing on hands and scalp changed: wounds are typical._

_Note: assistants have not yet uncovered information._

_March 15 th: Fifth day of observation._

_Remains confused as to her location; is adamant that she must be in ‘her Arendelle, not [her Majesty’s] Arendelle’, due to holding the conversation during the afternoon hours(?)._

_Her Majesty (Princess) has forced an easel inside and is working on a painting. Paints have been examined and determined to cause no potential harm. Removed her Majesty (Queen) from sickroom when she insisted upon coating patients’ arms in ice. Patients’ arms examined immediately afterward: show no signs of frostbite or cold burn. Arms still sensitive to touch._

_Ate little and vomited once._

_Dressing on scalp and hands changed: wounds are showing delayed signs of healing._

_Note: assistants have no information._

_March 16 th: Sixth day of observation._

_Remained confused as to her location, and called for her Majesties to confirm. Fell asleep before they could be reached and was allowed to remain asleep. Was told, frankly, fantastical tale by her Majesties that would explain the current mental confusion (both are surprised by date, though) about location. Remained awake during the hours of 10 PM – 2 AM: when asked, responded that it was a force of habit (possibly explained)._

_Ate entire diet, vomited majority of it up. Estimated weight: 87 pounds._

_Dressing on scalp changed: wound is showing delayed signs of healing._

_Note: no information._

_Note: if magical mirror involved, earthly treatment may not be enough._

_March 17 th: Seventh day of observation._

_Remains confused as to her location (possibly explained). Sleeps most of the day. Appeared pleased by painting. Mood is ill when her Majesties are not present, but was relatively calm when his Majesty appeared, along with Ms. Gerda and Mr. Kai. Became upset upon learning construct ‘Olaf’ and his Majesty’s reindeer remain at large. Awoke briefly at 12:25 AM, but fell asleep when her Majesty (Princess) gave her a small stuffed rabbit (has been examined and determined to be harmless)._

_Ate little, and became belligerent when asked to eat more._

_Dressing on hands and scalp changed: wounds’ healing is delayed._

_Note: no information._


	4. Chapter 4

_March 20 th: Tenth day of observation._

 

It was quiet.

Birds trilled and warbled out in the courtyard as they darted amongst the trees, audible through the wide-flung windows. The late afternoon sun stained the curtains a deep, wine red. A breeze wafted through the room, carrying with it the smells of bread and pastries being cooked in the kitchens below. If Anna concentrated, she could hear the trees bending in the wind, leaves rustling against one another as if in time.

Elsa’s breath whistled softly between her lips as she slept, her side pressed against Janice’s, hip to shoulder through the blanket, her gloved hand covering one trembling beneath its bandages. Elsa’s scratch had nearly disappeared against her pale skin. They no longer looked like twins. Only the bags under their eyes were the same.

Nadya held Janice’s other arm as she consulted her pocketwatch, gloved fingers pressed against the weak pulse at her wrist. She waited for a time, nodding silently to the passing seconds. She withdrew her hand and picked up a pencil, noting a number down in a ledger on her lap. She fiddled with the pocketwatch, running her eyes over the recordings. There was a general, gradual downward trend.

Dr. Diesbach sat at his desk, consulting the journals that his assistants had brought him. His well-pressed shirt, starched high collar and elegant vest were stained with a mixture of ink and sweat. A small, thin pair of glasses perched atop his nose, giving him the look of a man peering out at the world through a pair of peepholes. Papers were arranged across the desk according to relevance and scientific worth. Most sat by his feet in the discard pile. He was calm as he read, his bloodshot eyes steady. He was half-way finished with his fifth cup of coffee.

Anna’s brush scratched the canvas as she dragged it along in thick, heavy strokes. She’d long since covered up the thin pencil marks indicating where the small boat was to be. It sprang out from amongst the wide cuts of varying shades of blue, a white, shining beacon in the center, pointed determinedly at the horizon. The sail was a pale blue, dotted with flecks of white, and behind it were three shadowy figures. It had taken her three days to finish the fine details on the boat, having been interrupted constantly. It had taken her one to finish the rest of the painting.

Janice had become unresponsive four hours ago.

Anna’s hand twitched, the worn muscles spasming, and she grimaced at the sight of a swatch of intense blue covering the edge of the sailboat. She licked her thumb and rubbed it against the side, and then unthinkingly licked her thumb again. Diesbach looked up as she spluttered and gagged, grabbing her throat, a blue thumbprint affixing itself to the side of her neck. She spat a trail of blue saliva in her palm. “Oh yuck, that was dumb.” Nadya eyed her curiously. Elsa slept on.

Diesbach chuckled and flicked through his papers with fingers that trembled only a little. “Don’t worry: the paint’s non-toxic. I wouldn’t go around eating it for fun, but it won’t hurt you.”

Anna rubbed a handkerchief over her hand. “How’d you know that?”

“It’s made from an inert combination of iron and cyanide, which produces the deep blue pigment – ‘Parisian blue’ is the shade, if I recall correctly – and you can consume even a large handful and be all right. I wouldn’t have allowed it in if I thought it would har-”

There was a sudden noise.

Elsa snorted through her nose and woke up, blinking sleepily; Anna frowned and turned her head; Diesbach looked up from his papers, raising one bushy eyebrow: Nadya had dropped the pocketwatch to the wooden floor with a ringing clatter. Her eyes were very, very wide.

“Blue,” she breathed, and jerked her head towards the painting. She caught Anna’s eye and held it. “Blue paint, pigment, I…blue…it was…important…” For a moment Anna believed she was having an out-of-body experience. “Parisian…somehow, _blue_ , it…not Parisian, _Prussian_ …blue!” The three of them stared at her in total confusion, Elsa in particular looking completely out of the loop. Nadya stood in a rush, sending her chair crashing to the floor, and dropped Janice’s wrist. “I…I have to,” she said, backing away, and slammed into the bedside table with a yelp. She sidestepped quickly. “I have to go!”

Diesbach stared at the agitated nurse in bewilderment. “Ms. Gedroitz, what are Ear-” His head followed her as she bolted out the door, leaving it open in her haste, her skirts hiked up and feet flying. Anna moved to the door and watched in astonishment as the nurse turned the corner and disappeared. She jerked her head at the empty doorway, and the doctor just sighed and turned back to his desk. He hadn’t the energy to be worked up for long.

Janice made a small noise.

Anna gasped and ran to her side, banging into Elsa, who was struggling to sit up without touching Janice directly. “Did you hear…?”

The two of them held their breath for many long, aching seconds, watching the woman breathe, her chest rising and lowering with each shuddery inhale and exhale, evidence that she was still alive, still here, still had hope for…for…

Janice was silent. Anna felt her shoulders slump, and she sat beside her sister, leaning into her. Elsa stroked her fingers into Anna’s hair wordlessly.

_Tell me something, Anna: how did your parents die?_

“They died well. I’m sure of it. I have to be, for their sake,” she whispered. Elsa didn’t ask, just brought their foreheads together, and Anna, if she could not feel happy, could at least appreciate the comfort. She laughed weakly. Years ago she would’ve given up anything to be here, in this moment, where Elsa needed her, her touch and her love and her person. She glanced down at the too frail woman on the bed, eyes following the path of bones visible against cracking skin, stretched to breaking, the messy hair that she longed to kiss and pet, the eyes shut tight beneath pained brows, so hauntingly familiar, and yet like nothing she’d ever seen before. It wasn’t fair that the something she had to give up was actually a someone. She was too tired to cry.

“I’ve got it!” Nadya cried, feet pounding against the rug as she rushed inside the room, holding a fat journal aloft like a dog carrying a downed bird back to its master. She slapped the journal down on the desk in front of Diesbach, causing the man to flinch, and began flipping the pages rapidly. “I know it’s in here…”

Elsa turned her head, and Anna laid her forehead on her shoulder with a tired exhale. Elsa watched Nadya's jerky movements with a slowly growing sense that something, something was _finally_ happening, that maybe…maybe it…

“I didn’t mention it, or even really pay too much attention, because in all honesty I accidentally looked through the wrong collection, but I remembered…” She wet her thumb and scrambled through the pages, almost tearing them, as Diesbach remained seated, blinking at her over his spectacles.

“We were looking in the most _recent_ medical journals, because we thought that thallium had to have been invented recently if we’d never heard of it, and we were looking specifically for heavy-metal poisoning treatments because of the arsenic comment, right?”

Diesbach frowned. “Well, I did consider that, as per my notes, but we have only hearsay evidence that that’s even relevant, let alone chemically similar.”

Nadya completely ignored him, one hand waving wildly in her excitement. “But we weren’t going to find any there, because one had already been invented a whole _century_ before-AHA!” She stabbed her finger into the page, almost tearing it in her enthusiasm, pointing at the 18th century article. “Prussian blue!” She picked up the journal and began to read: “A chemical compound originally made for use in paints, in hues known as Parisian or Prussian blue, has proven effective multiple times as an oral means of combating heavy-metal poisoning in human subjects, including arsenic! See? I didn’t note it down the first time I read it because I assumed it was out of date, but if it’s still in use in paints today, and it’s safe to consume, it could work!”

The doctor sighed. It sounded painful. “Ms. Gedroitz, I think you’re jumping to conclusions. I appreciate your interest-” Elsa’s eyes widened, and she jerked away from her sister. She stared slack-jawed at the door, and then slowly drew her gaze to the painting. “Oh my God,” she croaked, “she _knew_.”

Anna, who had been watching the scene unfold with dull, exhausted disinterest, turned her head. “What?” Elsa grabbed her hands and shook them emphatically. “She _knew_ , Anna!”

Anna was still confused. “Knew _what_?”

“She…she wanted you to paint her a picture of the ocean. Of the _sea_. She wanted you to use blue paint and-” Her eyes bulged further. “Oh my God.” She was suddenly brought back to a time, so many months ago, a lifetime ago, when Janice was healthy and hale, talking softly about the chemical interactions present in paint to her slumbering sister. “You…you were asleep with me, and she had made us think we’d have sex together but was actually lulling us to sleep because you were so tired from your upcoming marriage, and I pretended to sleep while she talked about chemistry and paint and _Anna_ she _knew_.”

Anna’s gaze searched her sister’s face, taking in the agonized hope, so different from the look of belabored endurance it had borne for weeks now, and her eyes lit up. “Oh my God,” she repeated, and Elsa dared to smile, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “Yes, she might-”

The two of them stiffened in sudden realization, and they turned as one to the startled doctor and his motionless assistant, her finger still pointing to a new line of text.

“I…” Elsa said, looking quickly between the two of them.

“Whoa,” Nadya said.

“ _No!_ No, it’s not what you-we’re not, I mean, well, it is what-but please, don’t take it out on her!” Anna pleaded, her knuckles trembling in her sister’s tight grip. “It was all us, she doesn’t deserve any hate for-”

He held up a hand, and she bit her lip, hard enough to bruise. Elsa clutched her hands to her chest, and Anna could feel her heart hammering through the skin. Diesbach smoothed a hand over his bald crown, and Nadya slowly seated herself, eyes never leaving the pair. He chuckled softly.

“As I understand it,” he began, “this woman, this patient of mine, who was originally Queen Elsa until she was given a new name by her recently revealed as murderous sister, who shares the same magical powers that our own Queen does, until she didn’t, traveled through a mystical mirror into another world, our world, was only allowed in at set times, and is now laid low by a compound that may or may not have been invented yet, as evidenced by her insistence on being from the future, and our dismal failure at finding information about said compound, although this may not be the case.” Elsa opened and closed her mouth, then nodded slowly. He shook his head.

“Your Majesties, at the risk of insubordination,” he said, and removed his glasses, folding them up and slipping them over his shirt collar before fixing them with an bemused glance, “an incestuous lesbian love triangle is hardly the strangest part of this story.”

“Yeah…I guess…yeah,” Anna mumbled.

“And even if it were,” Dr. Diesbach said, solemnly, straightening in his chair, “I swore an oath over two decades ago to maintain at all times the health and safety of my patients, and I see no reason to abandon that oath now.”

“That and I could completely understand why you both would want to-” Everyone looked at her. Nadya dropped her gaze to her lap. “Um.” Her eyes darted to the side. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re all three of you rather…uh…” She swallowed hastily, and then yanked the forgotten journal onto her lap. “Right, our patient. Um. Dr. Diesbach, I know that you don’t think arsenic is the same as this thallium but…if it’s generally safe for people to consume samples of Prussian blue anyways…we could try that for now, and then have chemists synthesize the active drug…”

He was scratching at the stubble on his chin, gaze distant. “Yes,” he murmured, “I have been averse to trying things before, for fear of hurting her, but…”

“If you’re certain it can’t harm her…” Elsa said, at the same time Anna said, “If it could _help_ her, please…” He looked at them, holding his silence for so long that Anna’s breath burned in her lungs.

“I cannot be certain that it will help, your Majesties,” he said, face grim. But then his eyes grew warm. “But if you are willing to let me try…”

“We’ll try,” Elsa said firmly. She looked down at the woman on the bed, at the fine hairs across her brows fluttering with each breath, and she felt her chest tighten as she lifted her eyes to her sister. Anna nodded fiercely in response to her unspoken question.

“We’ll try whatever we can, if it gives her a chance.”

 

_March 20 th: ~~Tenth day of observation.~~ _

_First day of treatment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a note for the readers of my fic (thanks for reading!): Frozen is set in the 1840’s. Thallium was discovered in 1861. Prussian blue was synthesized first in 1706, and remains a potential cure for thallium poisoning to this day. The more you know…


	5. Chapter 5

_Thunk_. Janice pursed her lips. “Damn. Right eye.”

 _Thunk_. She sighed and dropped her head back against the pillow, pouting up at the canopy. Her legs shivered against the blankets. She lifted her head. “Left eye.”

 _Thunk_. Janice glared at Elsa, reclining on the bed beside her, long legs drawn up as she read, chewing her apple slice slowly. “You’re bewitching them.” Elsa distractedly shook her head, eyes never leaving her papers. Anna wiggled at the end of the bed. “C’mon, you’ve got two more!”

Janice begrudgingly raised her hand, which trembled a little, and examined the painting. “Hmm. Ears or nose?” Anna considered the question carefully.

“They’re both kinda big. How about the mole on his lip?”

Janice accepted the new target with a muttered “Left mole,” and her wrist snapped forward, releasing Elsa’s ice dart. _Thunk._ It buried itself in the canvas in the dead center of the mark. She groaned.

“I hate to say this,” Anna said, because she was a liar and lying was what liars did, “but I think you’re going to win. Again.”

“Probably.” Janice twirled the final dart between her fingers. “Did you want to at least give it a try?” Anna shook her head. It was for the best. Olaf’s nose still remained pinned to the dresser the painting was resting on, and the little snowman had been informed that, despite his clear interest, piercings were not for snowmen, let alone in that particular location, and so he’d good-naturedly toddled off to the kitchens for another nose.

Anna watched her closely as Janice made her decision. She looked criminally cute with her brow furrowed in concentration. It was a much better look now that the bags beneath her eyes were gone.

The first week, Janice had done little more than chew docilely on the little slices of bread dipped in broth, dusted with the medicine, and drop off to sleep immediately afterward, her legs shaking beneath the covers.

The second week she had refused to get out of bed unless absolutely necessary, snuggled deep in her blankets, making small, contented noises when Elsa’s fingers stroked her neck, lingering on her collarbone, over the healed skin.

The third week she had eaten a whole bowl of hearty stew in one sitting while angrily describing the book they had brought her as “the puerile fantasies of a man obsessed with an outdated model of government”, and Elsa had cried with relief. Janice had been startled by the sight, prompting a brief conversation during which she had asked why exactly they had been so worried; apparently, her memory of her own recovery was hazy.

“Right between the eyes.”

 _Thunk_. Direct hit. Councilor Greger’s portrait was beginning to look rather ragged.

“Aaaaand now you get your reward for winning! Yaaaay!” Anna bounced off the bed, and Elsa set her papers aside, licking her lips, before sliding off the bed herself, coming around to Janice, who had her arms folded belligerently. Anna gave her an unimpressed look. “Oh just get up; I know you don’t like this part, but it’s your own fault for winning.”

Janice made a rude noise that was hardly befitting of a queen but obeyed, spreading her arms wide, and each sister slipped a long, thin arm over her shoulders. Her bare feet touched down on the thick layer of snow, and she slowly began to walk. It was a laborious exercise, but every day she walked further, and for longer, and both sisters were confident that by the end of the week she’d be able to stand, albeit for a short time, by herself. They had already agreed that this would have a whirlwind effect on Janice’s recovery, and were greedily looking forward to it.

They reached the far corner of the room, and Janice toed the wall with one foot, biting her lip as she did so. Elsa stroked her arm. “Is it fatigue or pain?”

“Combination of both,” Janice grunted. Anna huffed and kicked the wall. Blasted thing deserved it for hurting her Janice.

“And around we go,” Elsa said, turning the three of them towards the next wall, and the sisters followed Janice’s steady, if still shaking, steps, more a reminder of support than anything else. They drew up to the mark on the wall made with a splash of very special paint, and Janice touched it with her toe, Anna copying her, and they turned again.

Janice stopped, staring at the bed with the intensity of a jockey watching the starting gun. Anna squeezed her hand. “Hey, are you okay?”

Janice nodded, and gently disengaged herself from the two of them. She hesitated once, then began to walk forward; shakily, with her arms flung out to maintain her balance, her aching feet ignored as she strode on. Every step was like on hot coals, and she reveled in the cold of the snow, letting it sink deep into the battered muscles, so ravaged by both poison and disuse. The pair shadowed her as she walked, her legs beginning to shake as she drew near the bed, but with a final push she collapsed with her back on the sheets, grinning widely up at the canopy. Anna squealed and bounded onto the bed, coming around behind her to kneel and stroke her cheeks. “You did it!” Janice pumped a weak fist in the air, then frowned as she said “boots”; Anna made a noise like an aggravated robin, and Elsa chuckled, settling herself on the other side more gracefully. Anna’s boots thumped against the far wall. Janice grinned even wider.

“Relearning how to walk. Oh how the mighty have fallen, huh?” Janice mused, gnawing on her lower lip. Her previously proud face fell. “And yet I still wish she could’ve seen it.”

They hadn’t discussed her sister yet. Janice had been extremely upset to learn that she’d believed Anna to be her sister for the first day. It had tainted the knowledge that she was “free of her old world”, and privately Elsa had been disappointed at the thought that Janice had considered the crossing so easy, as if she hadn’t realized her journey into their world had only just begun, what with the anchors that held her to her own so tightly.

Like her fear of talking about Anna. Her world’s Anna. Her sister.

“Um,” Anna said, leaning back on her heels, “what do you think happened to her?” Janice was silent as she sat up and crossed her legs, having to pull them underneath her with hands that shook. Her face was a mask when she spoke.

“She’s dead.” Elsa stirred, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. True, the other woman had consumed some of the poison, but... “I don’t know, I mean, if we could figure out what to do, even though we’d never heard of thallium, shouldn’t she know how to…?”

That’d been an interesting conversation:

 _“No, see,_ you _were your own savior! Even when you were hallucinating, you saved yourself by telling us, well, clueing us in on, the cure.”_

_“Yes; why didn’t you just tell us earlier about thallium?”_

_“What’s thallium?”_

_“…oh.”_

She shook her head. “What I mean is that she probably isn’t dead. I know that she’s-” Anna cut her off with a hand on her arm. “That’s not what she meant,” she told Elsa quietly. Janice hadn’t looked up from her hands. She was staring at the small series of pockmarked scars on one hand, pink against the pale skin. They would fade with time, but for now they felt oddly disfiguring, despite their size. The scars atop her head were larger, but they could be hidden more easily. And she’d finally had the strength to put the fear of God into that pushy doctor and his annoying assistants, so unless the top of her skull outright fell off, she wasn’t going to have anyone she didn’t want poking her in the head for “medical purposes” again.

“It’s funny,” she said, the words coming slowly to her, as though being fed a script that she should’ve read long ago, but had put off. “In some ways I poisoned her, too.”

Now it was Anna’s turn to hunch her shoulders in disagreement. “Uh, unless you’ve got something to tell us, that’s definitely not true.” But Elsa was silent, her eyes encouraging Janice to continue.

“I was her older sister; not by much, certainly, but enough; I should’ve been there for her, guiding her, protecting her. Instead I ignored her, because I thought if I did she’d stop being better than me, or at least I could practice enough to become better by myself.” Janice looked sick; her face was pinched, and she brought a hand up to her forehead, massaging her temples. Her breath was loud in the silence that hung over them. “She was always so much better than me at everything, despite being younger, and the ‘spare’, and…the worst part of it was that she didn’t have very many friends growing up, no one that I can recall, because they were so intimidated by her intelligence, gaiety and energy.”

The doors had been closed for years for the sake of Elsa. How long had they been closed for her own sake? Had her parents considered that at all? How much had they known?

“She was just too much of everything for everyone else.” Janice bit her lip, and Anna almost gasped. She was deliberately not looking at them. Her body had long since regained weight, and she no longer looked like she was starving. But Anna could read into her frame the fatigue that clung to her very bones like vines around a trellis; the weight would always be there until someone cut it out of her.

“Except for me. I was the only person who could handle her. Mother loved her, but I…I understood her, and we would do everything together. I loved everything about her, so much so that I wanted to _be_ her and…it drove us-” she caught herself, jaw tightening, “-no, I drove us apart. It was my fault.” She looked about to laugh, if she had had enough breath.

Anna looked about to speak, but Elsa laid her own hand on her sister’s arm. They waited together for Janice’s slow speech to move on. Janice drew in a rattling breath; she could feel the air moving over every rib, sinking deep inside. It felt too good for someone like her. Someone two-faced and evil, right?

“She started to play dumb, and that’s when the suitors came to call. That’s when Father started to pay more attention to her: not good attention, mind you, but it took his eyes off of me.” Elsa glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye, but Anna was looking straight ahead, her brows drawn together in sympathy.

Janice hung her head, staring at her palms, at the hands that had once built towering golems and monumental warships with glittering sails, that bore winds and ice that tore buildings asunder at her approach, that let the shapes, molds, and models in her mind’s eye take on form with just a thought, that made tiny ice baubles for her baby sister to play with, that made miniature castles for the two of them to clamber inside, pretending to fight off invading hordes of teddy bears and menacingly placed coat racks, that called shining vines into being that scaled the walls as Anna watched in wonder, her eyes full of love for what her sister could do.

The hands that she had worked with constantly over the years, the magic coming harder to her now, honing her craft obsessively until Anna’s wonder had become distaste, then depression, and then finally an uneasy acceptance that slid a mask over the gaping wounds that Janice trod on every day that she turned away. There were a lot of days like that. She chuckled without a hint of mirth.

“And…and I guess I forgot she had ever been smart to begin with. I shouldn’t have forgotten. She didn’t deserve that.”

Elsa and Anna exchanged a worried look. Elsa cleared her throat. “Janice, I know you feel bad about what you’ve done, but…and while I can fully understand being amazed by your sister’s talents and incredible personality, I really do-” she saw Anna start to smile shyly out of the corner of her eye “–and what you did, in ignoring her, was wrong, but that doesn’t condone her actions, either.”

Anna nodded fiercely in support. She was of the firm opinion that any good a person did was instantly negated the moment they tried to murder someone else.

“And even if she hadn’t tried to kill you…I know what it’s like to feel paralyzed by guilt. In some ways,” Elsa said, repeating Janice’s earlier words, “you helped me get over that myself, by myself, by teaching me about my power so I didn’t fear it. We’re all together because of you, because you weren’t afraid, because you loved freely, and I could never reject you for that.”

Janice shook her head. “Your story and mine are very different.” Her lip quirked up at the side. “An odd thing to say, considering our initial meeting, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Well, even if that is true-” Elsa stopped when Janice held up her hand, beseeching her to stop. It was completely steady. So were her eyes when she lifted them to the pair, looking at Elsa briefly before focusing on Anna. She felt like quaking under the intensity, but held her ground. She was like a slim deer staring down a lurking tiger, and was surprised to see the beast bow to her.

“I wronged her, and for that, I’m sorry. I’ll never get to tell her that, but…I can tell you, and if you forgive me, that…that would be enough.”

“I forgive you,” Anna said instantly, almost before Janice was finished talking. It made her eyes twinkle, but she could see the sadness reflected there, the lingering regret, and knew that it would be a long time before it could be dredged away. Elsa put her hand across Anna’s shoulders and hugged her tightly, the warmth bleeding into her along their connection, and she smiled fully. Well. At least she wouldn’t be doing it alone this time.

“I’m glad that’s over with,” she said brightly, and Janice’s eyes flashed to the Heavens briefly in supplication as Elsa giggled. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m not ruining the moment, I’m recognizing when it’s over and moving on, so there,” Anna retorted, emphasizing her point by poking Elsa between the ribs. Her sister jerked away and glared at her. Anna batted her eyes innocently. Suddenly she gasped. “Oh wow, I can’t believe we forgot to ask about Hans! He…he wouldn’t be able to take the throne, would he?”

“Not with the laws of succession I have in place,” Janice said, clearly shoving the previous conversation into the recesses of her mind. “In fact, he’s probably been exiled by now; can’t buy his way out of my complete disappearance. A pity I couldn’t see that.” At Anna’s curious look, she explained that in her travels she had come across a small island in the southern seas that was strategically located between her lands and those of the Isles. A pair of brothers who made their living fishing and trapping were the only inhabitants, and were reportedly fiercely protective of their home. After losing a whole troop of soldiers to them, Janice had tried to recruit the pair as bodyguards, but their loyalty to their home was absolute. They were not, however, above accepting money to keep the island clear of any ‘visitors’. Hans would be their first customer.

Elsa whistled. “Damn.” She remembered facing off against them and for a brief moment felt bad for the unlucky prince. Then she glanced at Janice’s dancing eyes, so bright and alive at the thought of Hans’ swift departure, and felt nothing but pleasure. Anna bit her lip and rubbed her shoulder. “Wow, okay. I mean, I guess if that’s how you do things…kinda seems a little harsh, though.”

“Well, if he ever needs anything, there’s always the mail service. Their ponies are quite fast.”

Anna frowned. “I thought you said it was an island.”

Janice brought a hand up to her mouth, eyes comically large.

Elsa’s teeth flashed in an evil smile. “I hope pretty boy knows how to run.”

“Or at least beg,” Janice agreed, and they shared dark chuckles as Anna looked quickly between them. “And you thought _I_ was starting bar fights?”

“What? Bar fights? Anna, since whe-” Janice waved at her, still laughing. She gestured with a steady hand at the papers Elsa was holding. “What are those?”

“They’re the papers detailing your history as ‘Countess Janice Margaret of Neumarkt, a widow who was recently the victim of insurance fraud on the part of her sister, has lost all of her properties to a wildfire and received shelter in the palace to recover from a sickness brought on by smoke inhalation.” Elsa set the paper down amongst the other ones describing Janice’s ‘past’. “Gerda had them written up and notarized weeks ago but…I never really read them closely. Or at all,” she admitted. Her lips twitched. “I doubt I would’ve appreciated it back then; apparently you first discovered your magic at the age of seventeen, when you saved a group of blind orphans from a collapsing church.”

“I always knew I had the power in me,” Janice deadpanned. She nodded at the other papers. “And those? That’s clearly not fictitious,” she said, eyeing the corner of the blueprints peeking out.

“No, those are designs for a set of military barracks that should be erected within the year, if I approve of them.” She hadn’t, and the manager of the project had gone to the council behind her back in mounting frustration. He had met with his Highness, acting on her Royal Majesty’s behalf, and an extremely large man wearing a tiny hat who glared at him the entire time while his Highness didn’t say a single word. Needless to say, her Royal Majesty’s tardiness was forgiven hastily.

Janice snagged the drawings and pulled them toward her, Elsa not protesting, and leaned back against the headboard. Anna laid her head on her shoulder and she stroked her cheek absently as she examined the document. Her lips were drawing into a thin line as her eyes pored over the notes and sketches with increasing disappointment. “You must’ve been extremely distracted if you let a travesty like this slip past you.” Elsa and Anna shared a look, but neither commented on it. Anna nuzzled deeper into Janice’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with it?”

“See these?” Janice’s finger drew along the thin lines detailing one side of the barracks. “Notice anything?” Anna shook her head. “Precisely. This wall bears the brunt of the structure’s weight, and the location of the building subjects it to particularly strong winds and heavy snowfall: an unavoidable handicap for a nation such as ours, but one that can be dealt with well. This is a poor attempt at doing so; at the first winter storm, this wall will collapse.”

Elsa frowned. “How do you know that? Our power is with ice, and doesn’t that have a different carrying capacity than stone or brick?”

“It does,” Janice conceded, “but when I was in my world, I made sure to visit the construction of every project of mine, particularly those that were meant for housing, and subjected them to a series of controlled storms to determine if they were as sturdy as their builders claimed. I may not have put the structure together myself, but after you’ve broken a few stories you learn where the weak points of a building are.”

She turned her head to look at Anna, who was lost in her eyes for a moment. “What should they have done?” Anna blinked. This was a question better suited for her sister, but Janice had asked her, so…

“Uhhhh, I don’t really know how to change the structure of it, but…maybe they could build buttresses on the side, for support?”

Janice smiled warmly. “You would be the one to think of something like that, wouldn’t you? Good girl.” Anna squirmed with delight and kissed her nose impishly, and Janice did not push her away.

An idea was slowing starting to take hold in Elsa’s mind, and she rubbed her hands together, thinking hard. “You know, I don’t actually have a royal architect, despite the need for one. It’s really more a bunch of managers and workers that are rotated around projects the Crown needs. Each one takes over for a time, but if someone were to step in…”

Janice shook her head sadly, still perusing the blueprints. “As a woman, I wouldn’t dream of unseating a man from a position of power.”

Anna snorted. “Yes you would.”

“Oh,” Janice said, snickering, “right.” She replaced the blueprints and took instead her ‘history’. She shuffled through, skimming the documents quickly, as Elsa sank her teeth into another apple slice. She offered the plate to Anna, who took several slices, clearly intending to eat less than half of them. She readied one in her fingers as Janice came to the final page. Her eyes widened. “Whoa,” she breathed, “how’d she get this blessed by the Pope?”

The slice hit the bed. “Wait, she what?” Both sisters stared at the seal, stunned, and then slowly met each other’s gaze.

“She _really_ deserves a raise,” Elsa said. Anna nodded fervently.


	6. Chapter 6

Time passed, as it is wont to do, and Elsa was struck by how little things didn’t change. She still went to tea with her lovers, but this time they did so while the early morning sun (Janice had decided she loved sunrises) filtered through the open window into Elsa’s room as they conversed quietly on the bed over the sounds of snoring. She still attended council meetings, but this time there were two new faces; one who asked cutting questions with a fine eye for detail and that made the councilors sweat whenever she offered an opinion, and one who twirled her pen around in her fingers when she wasn’t doodling sketches of boats and buildings and landscapes (“Why not people?” – “It took me awhile to realize, but I like my people alive.”). She still ate her meals in the dining room, but this time Janice was there to surreptitiously tip water into Anna’s wine while her sister used both hands to describe the sheer _size_ of the crystal Kristoff had shown her, exchanging an identical look with Elsa as Anna went on and on.

She remembered so many moments in time like they were paintings that she could run into; Janice, exercising her now clumsy fingers on the piano, her clear, beautiful voice an odd companion to the stilted, if sincere notes as Anna sat beside her, sighing, utterly hypnotized (“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Kristoff said, eyeing the pair, “how did your parents get together?” – Elsa smiled. “Oh, it’s actually a rather romantic story; see, he sang to her a so-” – “That’s all I needed to know.”); Janice and Anna sitting down to breakfast, each trying to be sneaky about donating their food to the other, unaware of the fact that they were moving the same potato pieces between two plates, Elsa quivering as she motioned for more food to be brought out; Olaf happily offering Janice a crude watercolor of a daisy he’d made, her face softening into something at once vulnerable and touched; Janice and her dancing slowly in the near empty ballroom, Janice having demanded a pair of heels, wincingly going through the movements on steadier legs as Elsa patiently held her close, Anna breaking in and forcing the three of them into a swiftly turning circle, Janice’s smile so wide it spilled over onto Elsa’s face; Kristoff carefully coming up to the window seat and laying a feather directly on Janice’s lips, tiptoeing away as the feather fluttered and made her nose crinkle in her sleep; Anna shaking her sister awake and pointing silently at the shaking, sweating woman between them, who was clutching her head and whispering unintelligible pleas, and was roused with a sharp gasp at Anna’s touch, sinking with relief into the warm arms that surrounded her; Kristoff’s open-mouthed surprise at the sight of the big reindeer prancing oh-so daintily, carefully maneuvering his charge around, Janice laughing and stroking one of his antlers as she sat side-saddle, Anna’s arms wrapped around her middle; Janice sinking into the pillows and making noises that had Anna panting when Elsa rubbed and massaged her feet, declaring it the “perfect remedy for an injured sole” while Anna whined; Dr. Diesbach’s initial disapproval at Anna’s bold request, relenting only when he looked directly into her watery eyes, yet still adamant that he would not condone any “strenuous activity” until his patient had at least gained another five pounds; Janice holding her stomach and groaning dramatically as Anna teased yet another piece of chocolate against her lips; Gerda watching Janice closely as she touched the tips of Elsa’s tiara with steady hands, replacing it on its pillow with a firm “You needn’t worry: I’m quite done with crowns”; Kristoff sobbing into Janice’s shoulder as she rubbed his back, bemused, thanking her profusely for the small Sven figurine to put on top of his birthday cake; Kristoff teaching Anna to spit into the open cups of dignitaries from the balcony above while Janice flipped through some designs at the table nearby, shaking her head affectionately; catching Janice in the kitchen making a sandwich, a monstrosity composed of jam, lettuce, onions, lutefisk, cinnamon and slices of orange, her shoulders hunching as she admitted that it wasn’t for her, making a disgusted noise and stomping out with her creation and grumbling about not making it for _her_ either when Elsa collapsed against the cabinets, howling; Janice pushing Anna’s face away, claiming total disinterest in being kissed until she scrubbed that _awful_ smell from her mouth, and Anna kissing her cheek anyway.

So little time, and yet so many memories built up already, so many new things she’d learned in the light of day about Janice that she would never have seen at night.

There was, however, one thing that Janice herself didn’t know: what color the ice turned in the morning light. It had been some time since they’d visited the palace up on Devil’s Outpost, and she intended to change that. Some thought otherwise.

_“I appreciate your concern, gentlemen, and will see you in a week.”_

It was when they arrived at the foot of the stairs leading up to the towering crystalline palace that the pair of sisters learned one more interesting thing about Janice.

“I am a full grown woman,” Janice said, and took a step.

“And a beautiful one at that,” Elsa said, and took a step.

“Very sexy,” Anna said, and took a step back.

“There is absolutely no reason to worry.” Step.

“No reason at all.” Step.

“Nope!” Backstep.

“I am perfectly capable of this.”

“Of course.”

“You got this, no sweat.”

A sudden gale whipped around the mountain side and froze Janice mid-step. She trembled, hands gripping the rails so tightly Elsa had to be very subtle about reinforcing them. “Oh God,” Janice gasped, “have I mentioned how much I _hate_ the fact that the mirror is gone?”

“This would be your third time,” Elsa offered brightly. Janice closed her eyes briefly before taking another slow step forward. The ice horses whinnied encouragement from the bottom of the stairs as they mulled around the sled. Janice, who had dozed on the way up the mountain, had taken one look at the delicate, fine features of Elsa’s gracefully sloping ice stairs over the gaping chasm and declared that no power on Heaven or Earth could get her to set foot on them.

Janice took another step, and the sisters moved accordingly: Anna in front, walking backward, and Elsa at Janice’s back.

She had a sudden idea, and hunched her shoulders guiltily at not having had it before. “Uh, do you want me to widen them a bit?” Janice was currently capable of making large ice cubes to cool the tea Anna had taken to drinking recently, but could hardly do anything larger.

“ _No_. Don’t do anything to them, I just-” She took another measured step.

“Hey, would it help if we talked to you?” Anna was a few steps away, ready to catch Janice if she stumbled, but thankfully her recovery had been near complete: aside from the scars, her muscular fatigue and limb pain were gone. So that meant the current shaking was due to something else.

“It does seem a bit out of character for you to not, and that’s another worry for me.” Step.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Backstep. “Okay, so uh, huh, how about our first time here? First time I went up these, I got thrown down them by an enormous snowman.”

Elsa leaned her head around the side and mouthed ‘sorry’ to her sister. Anna shrugged. “In my defense, I was very angry with Marshmallow after he told me what he’d done.” She’d almost felt bad about booting her second creation out mere minutes after giving him life, but there was no excuse for throwing people.

“Yes yes, very good.” Janice clearly hadn’t heard a word. She had taken a few steps, though, and that’s what mattered. “And you, Elsa?”

Elsa bit her lip. “Um, I ran up the stairs before they were done being made.”

“That seems more like an Anna thing to do.”

“I was very happy at the time: maybe that’s why.” Anna beamed at her, and in that instant the wind shrieked over the gap with enough force to send their braids flying and Janice into near hysterics. “Oh my God I can’t do this!” She whirled and tried to go back, only to run into Elsa, who grabbed her frantic hands, preventing the woman from leaving. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay, you really don’t want to go back.”

“Yes I most assuredly _do_ , thank you _very_ much.”

“Are you sure?” Elsa asked, tone lingering on the high notes.

_“Yes_ I’m bloody fucking sure.”

“Because we’re almost there.” Janice, quivering, turned her head slowly to see Anna standing in the open doorway. “Ta-da!” she said.

“You really are very close.”

“Yeah! C’mon, Janice, you can do it!” Anna waved her hands encouragingly.

_“Please keep doing that_.” Anna blinked, confused, but kept moving her hands, and Janice hurried up the last steps and before either sister had time to react was already slumping down against the wall and dropping her head in her hands.

They sat down on either side of her and silently waited for her to speak. It didn’t take too long.

“I just…I always had the warships out in the harbor…whenever I was giving a speech…a speech…from the highest tower,” Janice said, breathing hard. “I told my council it was because it, it, it impressed upon the people our military might, but it was actually so I could just…watch the flags waving and not the ground.”

“The ground doesn’t wave,” Elsa said helpfully. She flinched when Anna jammed an elbow into her gut.

“This…this has not been my day. Or year,” Janice mumbled.

Anna patted her arm. “That’s okay; if it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, we’ll be there for you.”

Elsa nodded slowly in agreement. She perked up at a thought. “So when do you want to see the sunset from the balcony?”

Janice groaned.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask: do you want to keep your name?”

Elsa’s question had been inspired after Janice, standing against the balcony doors and “quite fine right here, thank you”, had mentioned at the sight of the setting sun that, when she was a child, she’d thought that the sun was _literally_ over the horizon, and had once run away with her sister in tow, trying to catch it. After they’d been caught and punished, Janice with extra lessons and Anna with less time with her sister, Anna had revealed that the whole plan was silly anyways, because everyone knew that the Sun was actually pulled across the sky in a chariot of fire, and so they never would have caught up, but she went along with the game because it made Elsa happy.

“Because she gave it to me?”

“Yes. Does it…does it bother you?”

It did, sometimes. Sometimes Janice would respond to her name normally, but other times Anna would say it and a look of hurt would wash over her face so quickly that if it weren’t for the fact that she was now practiced at reading Janice’s minute expressions she would’ve missed it. And then, of course, there were the times when Janice could not be awoken from nightmares that stole over her in the night until Anna whispered in her ear that “its okay, Elsa, I’m here.”

Janice would never have brought up the subject herself, of course, so they would have to do it for her.

What followed was a short conversation during which Janice firmly established no interest whatsoever in “combined pseudonames”, immediately shooting down the proposed “Jelsa” with such vehemence Elsa hastily apologized for offering it in the first place. Anna’s suggestions were tolerated better, but nonetheless Janice requested that she be given a list of _real_ names before she would even consider changing her own.

“Actually, I do have a book of names here,” Anna said, and revealed a small book, almost more like a notebook, from the satchel by the bed. The three of them had retreated to the safety of the warm bed; Anna because it was warm, Janice because it was far from the balcony, and Elsa because that’s where they were. Elsa was leaning back against the headboard she’d constructed recently, while Janice was sitting cross-legged, eyeing Anna as she settled back onto the foot of the bed with her prize.

Elsa frowned. “Why are you carrying a book of names around?”

Anna bit her lip, trying to appear calm and collected, but the wiggling gave her away. “Welllllll…it took me awhile to figure it out, since I didn’t really get sick much at all, although I guess that’s thanks to the tea, and I’ve actually always been kind of irregular, but Auguste Dupin over here-” she nodded at Janice, who winked back conspiratorially, “–helped me with that.”

Elsa was still frowning, but all of a sudden a series of thoughts appeared, as if part of a carefully constructed list: the fact that Anna had been eating unusual (well, more than the norm: after all,she routinely put pieces of chocolate on her morning toast and called it her “happy bread”) foods, Anna getting fitted for new dresses on account of the bodice being too small, a change so gradual she had only been able to thank God in retrospect, followed by the memory of Anna curled up by the fire in the library next to Janice, who was feeding her slices of orange – come to think of it, Janice had been feeding Anna a lot recently, even though she’d forbidden her sister to drink wine in the past month, and getting her new shoes when hers pinched, and surprising her with armloads of books that the pair read while Elsa hammered away at some treaty or other. It was endearing to watch but…there was something…

Janice sighed. “I told you she’d be a useless lesbian about the whole thing.”

“Oh give it time to sink in, I’m sure she’ll figure it-“

“YOU’RE PREGNANT!”

“-out-see?”

Janice watched, amused, as Elsa squealed in a suspiciously familiar fashion and leapt up off the bed to pull Anna into a hug, only to jerk back and apologize profusely while Anna laughed and told her she wasn’t _that_ far along, only about a third of the way. At this, Elsa could hardly have passed for a proper, noble-born lady, what with the way she carried on (“You’re already _three and a half months in_ and I didn’t know?!” – “I didn’t know either until about two weeks ago, and then you suggested we come up here, and it just seemed like the perfect time…”) being quite unable to sit still, fairly bouncing around on her toes. Janice had clearly given up on Elsa being anything less than useless and asked the question herself.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I’m hoping for a little blonde girl,” here Anna grinned shyly at her sister, “but I know Kristoff’s hoping for a boy.” Her smile disappeared. “I’m really hoping it’s not a boy.” She gnawed at her lip, grimacing.

Janice cocked her head. “And just what’s wrong with boys?”

“No no, it’s not the fact that it’d be a _boy_ that’s the problem, it’s just...” They waited with baited breath, and Anna’s shoulders slumped. “Well, we had agreed beforehand that I got to name the girls and he got to name the boys and…” She sighed. Might as well be out with it. “He wants to name a boy ‘Sven’.”

Elsa stared at her in alarm. Janice’s eyes were just as wide, but her body was trembling. She sucked in a quick breath. Anna looked her up and down, whispered “ _Sven_ ” and that was all it took.

“He wants to name his _son_ after his reindehe-hehe-heheeeeerahahahaha!” Janice collapsed against the sheets, her body shaking as she howled. Despite her worry, Anna found her shoulders jerking with her own giggles as she watched.

Elsa blinked, rubbing her chin. “That’s, um. That’s an interesting idea. I don’t…I don’t think I agree with it; good Lord, I don’t know if anyone _should_ agree with it, but-Jesus, it’s not that funny.” Janice was curled up in a ball, occasionally gasping out “Sven!” and dissolving into laughter again. “It’s actually kind of terrifying. No offense meant to Sven, but…well.”

Anna nodded sadly, smile still stretched wide across her face. “You see my problem, then.” Elsa readily agreed it was a problem. Janice could not be reached for comment.

They only managed to make it through a few pages of names, Anna having started off with the ones in the back where she’d scribbled down her favorites, on account of Elsa jumping up and babbling animatedly at the thought of having a niece or a nephew or – Heaven above – both.  Janice had given up on sustaining a normal conversation and instead plucked the book from Anna’s distracted grip and replaced it in the satchel, shaking her head as the sisters continued to talk very quickly about what they thought the baby would look like, how excited they were, if it’d have Anna’s eyes (excited!) or Kristoff’s nose (less excited!), whether it was safe for newborns to be around reindeer, how excited they were, how Olaf would take the news, how they would dress up the nursery that Elsa had demanded the three of them work on together, whether they should inform the rest of the household immediately or wait (Janice had cryptically mentioned she found it highly unlikely they didn’t know already), how _excited_ they were…

Eventually they wound down, having spent all of their energy, and Elsa heaved out an enormous breath and plopped down on the bed, shaking her head to clear it. It took a few tries. “Pregnant. It’s just…magical. Christ.” Anna practically shone above her, hugging herself, and Elsa was half-tempted to leap back up and embrace her again, if only her legs weren’t feeling weak.

“I understand that that’s how the story went, actually.” Elsa rolled her eyes, and Janice shrugged, not even a little bit ashamed. It was a odd, being here at night: she kept looking around for the mirror, not finding it but rather Janice standing there instead. It was a good trade.

“Not _this_ story. Let me tell you; the conception was anything _but_ immaculate.”

Elsa’s eyes narrowed, and Anna grinned, sticking her tongue out at her sister. Much as Elsa was finally coming around to Kristoff, being reminded of his unique relationship with Anna always seemed to bring out a possessive strain, which boded well for her escape from celibacy. Janice had encouraged them to enjoy themselves while she was still recovering, but it had felt cheap to do so, and so their attempts had petered out after only a few. But now that she was better…

“Oh come on, I know you’re _dying_ to fly. And I’d love to watch.”

“Well, yes,” Elsa admitted, “but I wouldn’t mind reminding you of just who you belong to, either.” Oooh, that could be fun. “Would you like that, Janice?”

“…we could do that,” Janice said, after a long pause, and there was something about the way she’d said it that made Anna turn to her.

Janice was watching her.

She had been watching for a very long time.

But she wasn’t the only one. Anna had not remained idle during those long months.

“Or we could try something that I’ve wanted…” She paused. “…that we’ve both wanted. Would you mind, Elsa?”

Elsa had grown quiet, contemplative, but Anna wasn’t looking at her right now. She didn’t need to, to know what her sister was doing, or thinking. But the woman in front of her was at once mystery and open book, and Anna could feel within her bones something growing, stirring, rising from the depths that whispered to her in a building wave of tension that filled her with a strange sense that something was happening, something she had seen coming for months. Something that had been in the making since she’d first knocked on the ice door, and had been let in. Something that came back with her when she stepped through the mirror.

Janice silently bared her hands, palm up, to her.

She might have heard Elsa gasp, but it was a distant sound, drowned out by the pounding in her ears.

_(-“Do I bow to you, you or your sister?”- Looking down upon her, moving between her spread legs - “I knew you would kneel for me”- A woman seated atop a magnificent throne, Janice beneath her-)_

She clapped her hands to her mouth. “Oh! Oh my gosh, I-wow! Yes, I would-yes!” She was babbling and couldn’t care at all. Janice wasn’t smiling, at least not with her lips. She ran forward and grabbed her hands, shaking them so much that Janice’s bangs bounced over her brows. Now she was smiling. “Yes, oh wow I am totally ready for this! I mean wait.” She stopped, eyes widening nervously. “You, uh, you are saying you’d like me to touch you, right? Like you touch Elsa? Did…did you want me to do what you do, because honestly I’m not really sure I could…”

Janice gently removed herself from Anna’s grip and settled her hands on her shoulders. “What I want, dear Anna,” she said, warmth in her voice, “is what you want.”

Anna’s face fell. “But…I remember you saying that that was the wrong attitude to have, because if you wanted to be responsible about pleasure you had to make sure your partner was okay.”

“I know,” she responded, her voice fond, “but the mere fact that you’re saying that means I trust you not to do anything that would harm me.” That was heart-warming, but…

“I’d still…um, well, I’m not trying to be ungrateful but I really would like some sort of guidance, or…” She shrugged, trying to convey what she was struggling to say.

“Hmmm, fair enough.” Janice rubbed her shoulders as she thought silently, and Anna wondered if that had been some sort of test. “How about this: you may do to me, or have me do, everything you have seen me do to Elsa, all right? Same rules, as well.”

Well that didn’t narrow things down much. On the other hand, it did bring to mind a certain fantasy, one that she may or may not have been thinking about for a while now, and if her hunch was right, it was something that Janice had been desiring too. So if she was offering…

Anna nodded firmly, almost to herself, before she could lose her nerve. “I won’t let you down!”

Janice just laughed and pulled her in for a hug, which Anna greedily accepted. Cuddling was one thing; she had had to be sneaky, at least initially if she wanted to get away with that for long (she had “discovered” an interest in a bunch of authors that Janice just so happened to enjoy for a reason) but being offered a hug? Priceless.

“I’m not worried on that front.” She supposed it was wrong, somehow, to feel like nuzzling into Janice while at the same time _really_ wanting to fuck her, but…

“Okay, just…let me get into character,” she said, and took a step back. She took a big breath and exhaled slowly. Janice was still watching her silently, but she saw her stomach flutter, even through her dress. Better get things started, right? She planted her fists on her hips and straightened, clearing her throat. Janice lifted an eyebrow.

“Kneel,” she ordered, pointing at the floor, voice serious. “Now. Right now.” Her eyes darted to the side. “Um, please.”

“Clothed?” Ah, right. “Uh, no, you can take your clothes-I mean, take your clothes off.”

Janice wordlessly began to strip, Elsa’s ice dress sliding off of her in waves of glittering blue giving way to mouth-watering cream, and if Anna muttered “unf” under her breath well, she was only human, right?

And still not naked herself. She should really do something about that, especially since it was getting way too hot in here. Here, in her sister’s castle…

She looked back at Elsa, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Uh, Elsa? Are you okay with us…?”

Elsa was staring at Janice, wide-eyed, but she looked more stunned than aroused. “Yes. I-yes, I’m fine, you two…yes.” She swallowed and bit her lip, ripping her eyes away from the now naked woman waiting patiently. “Go right ahead.”

With her sister’s approval, Anna felt her own courage return with a vengeance. She puffed out her chest. “Okay, we’re doing this.” Janice looked down at her feet and stepped out of her shoes. Damn. She had a sudden thought, and grinned. “Oh, and by the way?” She waited for her to look up and fixed Janice with a confident smirk. “I’m keeping the boots _on_ ,” she said, as snootily as she could. Nailed it.

“The ones you’re wearing now?” Anna looked down at her legs, clad in the knee-high black boots, realized how silly that was, and jerked her head back up with a huffy “Of course!”

“Oh good,” Janice said with a sigh. “I _really_ like those.”

Anna’s jaw dropped. Why, that little _stinker_! She closed it with a snap. Ohhhhhh now she was in for it.

“Okay, missy,” she hissed, “down.” Janice actually winked at her as she knelt. It was starting to bug her. Usually Elsa was submissive, or at least not outright insubordinate, and this rampant disrespect was enough to make her eyes narrow and something growl from deep within. If Janice was going to be stubborn, then Anna was going to give as well as she got.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-or rather, you’re going to do,” she said, marching up to the kneeling woman, who regarded her with a small smile and dancing eyes. “You are going to use that evil little tongue of yours on me, and you are not stopping until I get off, you hear me?”

Janice opened her mouth and Anna slapped a finger over it.

“Ah ah ah! No talking unless I say you can. So zip it.” Janice frowned, but didn’t comment, instead nodding wordlessly. She looked pointedly at Anna’s dress, one eyebrow inching toward her hair again in expectation. Anna sniffed.

“You’re smart,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “you deal with it.”

She jerked and stifled a gasp quickly as she saw thin trails of ice drawn over her arms, shoulders and torso. The tingling lines sliding up her hips and down her front indicated the ice had done more than just wrap around her outer body. It burned through the thin fabric, and Janice tilted her head back to admire her work, eyes roaming over every twisting, shimmering line. Then she clenched her fist, and Anna’s clothes fluttered off of her in neatly sliced pieces, leaving her shivering, naked but for the leather boots on her feet and the pendant at her throat.

If she wasn’t flushed beforehand, she was now: her skin prickled against the cold as the blood rushed to the surface, Janice smirking up at her silently.

“You’ve ruined my clothes,” she said, trying not to pout. Inspired, she added, “shouldn’t I punish you for that?”

Janice’s eyes blazed.

She sank her hands into her unruly hair and tugged her head forward, into one thigh, and Janice mouthed the pinking flesh there without being told. Her eyes were closed as she drew her lips and tongue over Anna’s skin in patterns that drew tantalizingly close to where her touch was needed the most. She punctuated her movements with soft nips and scrapes that sent little jolts of pleasure up Anna’s spine and fire burning in her belly. She bit her lip and forced her into position, and her hips jerked when her nose settled over the small patch of hair on her mound, Janice’s breath hot against her opening.

The swirling light of magic drew her gaze downward to where Janice’s hands were crossed, fingertips grazing the floor. Thin ropes twisted around her wrists, binding them together, the ice spreading like vines. Her ring gleamed in the faint light.

She nosed her curls, and Anna’s hands dragged over Janice’s scars, making the woman flinch. She almost drew back, a hasty apology already on her lips, but Janice whined and then gave a slow lick up her opening, and Anna was soon far too distracted to care. She dropped her head back, flexing her fingers when Janice repeated the gesture, and groaned as she flicked it against her clitoris. “Yeah, that’s…that’s it.”

Perhaps she hadn’t been the only one who’d thought about this. Janice was licking, suckling and nibbling at her, dipping her tongue into her aching hole, moving upward to tease her bud, with such focused intent that Anna’s eyes were rolling back in her head as she tried not to suffocate her, but every time she reminded herself that Janice probably needed to breathe the woman would do something wicked with her tongue and Anna could do little more than press her firmly between her thighs and rut desperately.

“Fuuuuu-uuuck yes that’s-uhhhhnnnn, God yes, I- _fuck_!”

Her legs were starting to give way. She staggered back, towards the bed, and Janice followed, pulled along by the hair. She sat heavily and watched, dumbstruck, as Janice dived in without preamble, but this time she was sloppier, more erratic, hair tickling Anna’s fingers as she moved frantically.

Anna tipped her head back, closing her eyes and cursing under her breath as Janice sucked her clitoris into her mouth, and she nearly bucked the woman off of her when she felt just the lightest hint of teeth against the sensitive nub.

“Oh wow, that’s…uhhh yeah that’s…that’s what I…”

Janice quickly turned her head and pressed it into her thigh. If Anna thought to protest, she was stopped when she felt her foot being lifted. Janice gripped the boot with hands that shook and sank over it, pressing her core firmly against the top, and began thrusting, making soft sounds high in her throat as she did so. Anna stared, entranced, as she bit her thigh and slid slickly, easily, over the leather, shoulders stiff and the muscles in her neck tensing with every movement. Tentatively, she rocked her foot and Janice turned her head into the edge of the bed and whined, a lingering note through her nose.

“Please…please, I-” Janice broke off with a gasp. She tipped her head back and moaned, mouth falling open, as she rode her foot, and Anna felt herself throb in empathy, her own need reflected in the desperate form in front of her.

“It’s all right,” she whispered, feeling almost detached from her own body, even so close to the edge herself she could feel her core clenching in anticipation. “You can…you can talk.”

“I need, I-I…” She dropped her head to the bed again, and Anna stroked her hair, noting how her muscles jumped in response. She could feel the wave rising, Janice’s speed increasing as she drew nearer to the edge, and inhaled sharply-

Janice shuddered, trembled, and then slowly let go of the boot, her hands hanging limp. She had not come.

An image arose in her mind of Janice, that night so long ago, looking deep into Elsa’s eyes and wanting. Another: the clock chiming just as she was finally ready to lay her hands on Janice’s body, and the woman retreating to safety. How many times had she touched, but not been touched? Too many.

She had spent months learning the many ways that her sister and Janice were different. Funny how she hadn’t thought to think of the many ways they were the same. She had wondered, once, what it was that Janice desired most.

“You like it, being denied. You…” she swallowed and ducked her head. “You like…you like being in pain.” Each word was a blow. Against her, against Janice, shattering to pieces the glass between them.

She did not reject the claim, just hung her head. The scars were barely visible against her tousled locks.

_Janice, making her turn around. Janice, pushing her away. Janice, saying no._

_“The cold doesn’t bother me, anyway.”_

You had to practice a lie like that, to truly believe it.

“Get up,” she said, her voice weak. Janice didn’t move. “Please.” The kneeling woman stood instantly, coming forward when Anna beckoned, and she pulled her onto the bed. She rolled them over, draping herself atop Janice, who hissed and tried to dig herself deeper, away from her heat, her burning skin. Without any warning, Anna drew her hand down and slipped fingers inside, silently taking in the way Janice squeezed her eyes shut and retreated within.

“How long have you told yourself that?” Her voice was whisper soft. It struck her skin like thousands of knives, cutting, plunging into her over and over again, like her questing fingers through slick heat. “Just like Elsa used to tell herself that. Until you taught her to say yes to pleasure.”

Janice bit her lip, her face twisted in pain, in pleasure, blended together so tightly in her mind that there was no line drawn between them. She would change that. She had to.

“You’ve been listening to the little voice inside you. Maybe for years.” She stroked forward, slowly, and Janice turned her face away, trying to hide. “I’ve got a voice, too. And I’m still not very good at shutting it out, but…you’re helping me with that.” Janice panted for air, Anna’s thrusts deep and long and effortless.

“So I want to help you with this.” She brought Janice’s fingertips to her lips and kissed them, and then gently began to suck, tongue stroking the skin as she took more and more inside, coating them with her own desperate need. Janice choked.

She brought her head back, the fingers glistening. “Break them,” she said, and Janice shook her head firmly, wildly, as if she hadn’t the strength to speak, as if the movement was her last denial, as if she could will away what was coming next.

“Where are you?” she asked, punctuating her question with another thrust inside, Janice’s thighs coming together to trap her hand there, and she paused. Their eyes met, and Anna held still, waiting, waiting.

A weak pulse of ice from her right hand, followed by the crackle-hiss of ice shattering, leaving her hands free.

She withdrew from her slick folds and guided Janice’s hand down, down between her legs, and her thighs fell open obediently, letting her in. She captured her other hand and threaded their fingers together in a reflection of their own bodies. Janice did not move away. Anna wasn’t sure how she still had breath to speak.

“I don’t think you like it to hurt.” She curled Janice’s hand and pressed it against her opening. “I think you like it gentle.” After a moment, Janice entered herself slowly.

“And maybe you were afraid to ask for it. Because that little voice said you didn’t deserve it.”

“I was so, so afraid.” Her hips barely moved in time with her hand.

Anna’s face was tender. She blinked away her tears. “What are you so afraid of? I’m right here, if you’ll let me in.”

Somewhere along the way someone had scraped away the skin, muscle and bone above her heart, leaving it open, naked and exposed, the only line of defense a pair of trembling hands that desperately tried to keep the world at bay, tried to keep it safe, tried to keep it hidden in the aching, crying darkness.

She wouldn’t need to cover herself anymore. Anna would take her heart and bring it inside of her, listen to it beat within her own breast. She had more than enough room to spare.

“You are, you are, you-you…” Janice shut her eyes tightly, her arm rubbing against Anna’s stomach, sweat making them slide against each other with each hesitant touch.

“I’ll always be here, and you know why?” Her eyes flew open and their gaze met, blue against sea-green, all at once so breathtakingly familiar and painfully unknown, unknowable.

She drew in a breath, to say the words that Janice, with her tall, regal beauty and her violent, crackling power and her storm within, would have collapsed under if she’d said them before. She called up the memory of split second decisions that were the only difference between life and death, that thin line between her living and her surviving, she remembered dying and how perfect it had been in its quiet simplicity, and painted the feeling on her tongue, alongside the taste of secrets and safety and sunsets shared. She took in every sigh, every lingering look, every whisper in the darkness lit only by a flickering fire and her lovers’ warm touch and bound them together into a gift, ready to be poured over her like cleansing rain over a body stained with regret and fear and pain, both a balm to soothe the agony and a fire to start it up anew.

She opened her mouth-

“I love you!” Janice cried.

She screwed her eyes shut against the tears that burst forth, but Anna was there, wiping them away, laying a kiss on her gasping chest, the dip of her collarbone where sweat pooled, her straining neck, her chin, hovering over her open lips in patient observance. Janice’s hand clutched hers so tightly it shivered. She would wait years there, if she had to. She knew how.

Janice tilted her head back in total submission and brought their lips together.

Through their connection she could feel the desire coursing through her veins, the flames that growled with every delicate brush of her lips, the hunger that burned, that ached, for the touch of another against her, deep inside of her. She could taste the _want_.

And Janice’s arm between them, rhythmically thrusting, almost like an afterthought.

“Good girl,” she whispered. Janice whined, the sound slipping and sliding against the roaring power of Anna’s pulse, soaking up the screaming need that had burst forth until Anna could hear her gasps and pants as she trembled on the knife’s edge between sanity and bliss. Her eyes were blue rings surrounding a dark abyss that Anna lost herself in.

“Come for me, my love,” she breathed against her lips. And Janice obeyed.

She gave a soft, aching sigh as she fell apart, trusting Anna to hold her shattered pieces together. Not once did she look away.

Her exhausted muscles, so tense and trembling, slowly relaxed, and Janice sank into the mattress, her eyes finally fluttering closed. She made little noises of pleasure when Anna kissed each eyelid, nuzzling her forehead gently. She pressed her lips there and held the pose as Janice breathed. She drew back and smiled down upon her, watching her throat shiver as she gulped and panted.

“That was just-I haven’t done that in-I wish you had been my sister,” she blurted, and Anna felt her heart seize.

“That, she said, in a voice that was at once proud and sad, “is the most romantic, sweetest thing you could’ve said to me.”

“It would’ve made it that much kinkier to corrupt you.” She pursed her lips. Janice was beaming up at her, her smile almost absurdly huge. She shook her head, tsking.

“Shhhh,” Anna crooned, patting her cheek, “don’t ruin the moment, my irritable little jackass.” Janice let out a breathless chuckle before Anna leaned down and kissed her with all the passion she had been holding back before, swallowing her sighs as she sank deep into the pillow, Anna chasing her.

She drew back again, and Janice’s chest heaved.

“Oh, oh wow, I just, I-” Janice stopped, chest freezing in place as she jerked her head down. Between her breasts spirals of ice twisted and flexed with an inner fire, flickering against the drops of sweat, coalescing into a perfectly symmetrical snowflake. A familiar snowflake.

Anna picked it up. It was warm to the touch. She grinned.

“At the risk of being cliché,” she said, and pressed her pointer finger into Janice’s chest as she solemnly intoned, “I always knew you had it in you.” Her finger jumped when Janice snorted.

“I love you, you dork, but you’re pushing your luck.”

“ _Never_ ,” Anna said dramatically. She dropped a kiss on Janice’s cheek and giggled when the woman nuzzled their noses together.

“Well done.” They looked up to see Elsa draped over the far side of the bed, watching them quietly, a pleased smile tinging her lips and sparkling in her eyes. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison, and Anna gasped out “Jinx!” before Janice had time to react. She rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, her fingers sticky, grumbling while Anna giggled.

“Great. And now I’m in her debt. Thanks, Elsa.”

Elsa’s smile was a cross between beatific and smug. “I love you, too.”

“And I you…I mean, I do too, I, you…” Janice gestured in lieu of spluttering out more nonsense. She tried to cover her face with one shaking hand but Anna grabbed it and kissed her palm.

Elsa laughed. “Yeah, I figured that out already.” She gave her sister a coy smile, one delicate eyebrow rising. “But I don’t know about this one over here; does she love me?”

“Of course I do! Basic transitive property.”

The sight of Janice and Elsa simultaneously cocking their heads to the exact same angle should have made her giggle, but she held it in. For propriety’s sake. She had an image to maintain, damnit.

“Oh, you know,” she said, “A equals B equals C, so A equals C? You and Janice love one another, so do Janice and I, therefore so do you and I.”

“You and m-wait, yes. Right.” Janice blinked repeatedly and regarded her curiously. “Algebra, huh? Let me guess: you just had to help those poor farmers figure out how plant the correct ratio of potatoes to onions, right?”

“Well, I _did_ always like word problems better than just straight math. Seems kinda pointless without people involved.”

“That _is_ the right attitude to have,” Elsa quipped, and leaned forward to sneak a kiss from her. Before she could retreat, Anna pulled her forward by her necklace and affixed the snowflake to it. “There. Now we match.” Her own pendant glittered against her throat.

“Not quite,” Janice said, twirling the ring around her finger. She smiled. “But that’s okay. I like it better this way.”

Suddenly she frowned, and looked Elsa up and down. “You’re naked.”

Elsa propped herself up on one arm, completely shameless about her open legs and the wetness smeared between her thighs. “I had to do _something_ while you two were going at it. There’s something about the way you beg that is intensely arousing,” she said, and Janice stubbornly cuddled deeper into Anna’s embrace. “Thankfully, I’ve become quite good at touching myself. I wonder why…”

“Janice,” Anna groaned, “she’s being uppity again.”

“What are you going to do, punish me?”

Janice chewed at her bottom lip, looking between one sister, who was edging dangerously close to petulant, to the other, who was smirking. A tempting offer.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” This was good thing: Anna was beginning to realize that Janice had some pretty awesome ideas.

Janice turned her head to Elsa. “How about we both fuck her until she can’t move?”

Anna shivered. At any other time, she would’ve leapt at the chance, but now… “As nice as that sounds, I think we both need to wind down. I mean, you’re still kinda…not exactly out of it, but…you need a breather, definitely.”

Janice smoothed her hands over Anna’s upper arms. “I have never been better, but…thank you. She sighed, exhaustion written on her face. “For, well, everything.” She tilted her head back, eyes sinking closed in pleasure as Elsa threaded her fingers through her hair and stroked.

“Where would we be without her, hmm?” Her eyes were hooded, voice quiet.

Anna glanced down at her location, still atop Janice. “Uh, probably more toward the center of the bed?”

Janice laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Afterward, they settled in for bed, Anna declaring the ice bed her favorite bed ever, but only if they would hurry up and snuggle with her already. Neither had needed much encouragement on that front. Janice was curled around Anna, spooning her, and Elsa was stroking her sister’s arm as she cuddled against her. Janice was watching the stars twinkle through the open doors, and it made her eyes gleam in the calm darkness. The woman between them was already asleep, judging by the wet patch on Elsa’s sternum, and there was something soothing about holding her while Janice watched over them both.

“Sofia,” Janice said decidedly.

Elsa shifted slightly. “Hmmm?”

“The name. Sofia.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, Anna did like that one a lot. You think Kristoff would like a Sofia?”

Janice chuckled. “Not for the kid, for _me_.”

“Oh.”

They were silent for a long time, listening to the sound of Anna’s snores, so peaceful at night.

Janice was almost asleep by the time Elsa asked, “So what name did you want for the baby?”

“For the kid?” Janice stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. If there were a clock in the room, she’d listen to its faint ticking. She let her heartbeat keep time instead as she considered the question. Then her cheeks bunched into an enormous smile. “Actually, I’m _really_ hoping for a Sven.”

Elsa groaned as Janice rolled over and giggled madly into her pillow. She smacked her forehead. “Idiot. I’ve let an idiot into my bed. When did I do that?” she asked the heavens. “ _Why_ did I do that?”

“Mmmm’cause it’s actually my bed,” Anna murmured thickly. Elsa resisted the urge to glare at Jani-Sofia, if only because she couldn’t see her very well in the darkness.

“Now look what you did. She’s the one who should be getting plenty of rest.”

“S’okay, needed to get my blanket back anyways.” Anna reached behind her and tugged Sofia back by the arm, making a small noise of pleasure as the other woman immediately pulled herself snug against Anna’s body, nosing her ear. Anna poked Elsa in the ribs, making her flinch. “And my pillow is talking too much; go to sleep.” Elsa couldn’t cross her arms without elbowing her sister in the face, so she settled for harrumphing instead.

“Your ‘blanket’ has a new name, by the way,” Sofia whispered into Anna’s ear. Anna stroked her fingers through her tousled hair. “I heard. Sofia. Sounds good. I’ll allow it.” Sofia chuckled and kissed her cheek. Seconds later she was out like a light.

It was probably unfair of Elsa to be jealous of people who could decide to fall asleep and then just do it. She’d never been blessed with that gift. She blamed an overactive sister when she was a child and her own silly worries as an adult, but the tendency was here to stay. Usually she spent somewhere between an hour to two just waiting for sleep to take hold. The past decades it had meant that not even her own bed was safe from intruding thoughts. Now, though, with the backdrop of soft breaths intermingling with buzzing snores, she could think about other things, like what she should do to make the palace stairs more accessible for Sofia, whether it was possible to completely remake it with warm ice for Anna, or how glad she was that Ja-Sofia was here with the-

Elsa’s jaw dropped. She made a few gasping noises before she could pull it back up. “She’s twenty-six.”

Against her, Anna stirred, her voice scratchy. “…who’s twent-oh. Yeah. We know that.”

“She said her world was twenty six years ahead of ours.”

“…not getting it.”

“The mirror stole twenty six years from her world; the mirror stole her life away, and gave it to _us_.”

Anna pondered this for a long moment. “Okay, I think that’s the kind of thought that only makes sense right now, and will be complete hogwash in the morning.”

Elsa was frowning. “Actually, it’s sounding like some half-baked idea right now.” She sniggered. “Actually, it sounds like something an idiot would say.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Anna mumbled. Elsa leaned forward and kissed her hair. “It was a hypothetical idiot; you know, the best kind.”

Anna hummed her assent and nuzzled deeper into Elsa’s chest. Her sister brought her hand down to her sister’s side, stroking it lightly, considering. Now that she knew, the slight curve was easier to see. It made the whole thing that much more real. Her pulse began to pound at the thought, and Anna blew out an annoyed breath and poked her neck.

“Anna, I can’t just turn off my-um.” She had been holding the question back, too wrapped up in the breathless excitement, but now it burned on her lips. She licked them, trying to keep it at bay, but out it came.

“…are you nervous?”

“About what?”

Being a mother. Holding the life of a trusting child in your hands. She remembered a terrifying night, with its shock, terror and guilt, and marveled at how similar things could be even when the angle was different. The more things change…

She blinked. Years ago she would’ve feared for the fate of any child born with her own powers. Yet now the thought was oddly exciting. She shook her head and tried to reenter the conversation, even though Anna was clearly wandering out of it.

“Uh, the whole birth thing? It’s not that far off.” That was weird to say, seeing as she’d only just been told about Anna’s pregnancy, but it was true; at least, according to what she’d remembered about pregnancy, and how quickly the time seemed to fly. She supposed she’d better spend more time in the library soon. J- _Sofia_ already had a huge leg up on her, and she didn’t want to be in the dark for too long.

Anna nodded drowsily. “It’s okay; when it comes time to give birth, I just won’t show up.”

“…you can’t just skip the birth.”

“Nope, I can,” Anna said firmly. She rubbed her face against Elsa’s chest and sighed, a big heaving breath that blew all her worries away. Sofia’s warm breath ghosted over her cheek in a tender lover’s caress. She smiled sleepily. That wasn’t a metaphor.

“Just you wait,” she whispered, already slipping away. “I’m going to close my eyes, and the next time I open them, I’m going to be a mother, and there’s not going to be anything in between now and then. You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

_“ARRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHWHERETHEFUCKISKRISTOFF I WILL FUCKING MURDER HIM!”_

“Anna, let’s just…let’s just try to calm down: you’ll get through it, and we’ll all be-”

“DON’T YOU USE THE ROYAL WE _YOU_ ARE NOT CURRENTLY SQUEEZING A WATERMELON OUT YOUR-””

“I have the towels!

“Give them here, quickly, she looks like she’s going to eat you!”

“She’s not going to eat him, she’s just very worked up and-”

“WHY DO THESE ICE HANDLES KEEP BREAKING GODDAMNIT GIVE ME SOMETHING ELSE TO BREAK!”

“… _run_.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, I’m just glad that that’s over with,” Sofia said, sinking into the window seat with a grunt.

She’d just returned from a meeting with one of her underlings, and Elsa had watched, bemused, as the man quaked in his boots while Sofia sweetly informed him, in exacting detail, of the many ways his team had failed her, and how much she would enjoy going to the nearest competitor. The queen wasn’t regretting her appointment one bit: the costs associated with recent construction had dipped considerably. The fact that her sister had her own hand – well, pencil – in some of the designs had made the whole deal that much sweeter.

“Oh come on Janic-oops.” Anna shook her head at herself. “Sorry.” Sofia waved a hand at her in a “no need to apologize” gesture. “Wow, I haven’t done that in a while. I guess I was more used to it than I thought.”

“I have to say, I definitely like Sofia better,” Elsa offered from her position on the bed.

“Pity no one asked you,” came the reply, and Elsa threw one of the pillows at Sofia, huffing as the woman blew it away with a sharp blast of warm air, smiling smugly.

“Yeah, it’s a good name,” Anna agreed. “And a hell of a lot better than Janice.”

The woman in question frowned. “And just what was wrong with that name?”

“What, Janice?” Anna chuckled. “I mean, come on: Jan- _ice_?”

They stared at her, speechless, eyes growing wider and wider in stunned realization, and then slowly looked at one another. She boggled.

“Are-are you two _serious_?” Neither answered. “You never thought of that?”

“Um.” Sofia’s eyes darted to the side.

Elsa stared into space. “Well, it’s…uh.”

“You both run-well, ran-entire _countries_ and this didn’t even occur to you? How could you not see this?”

“Well, it’s just…I mean…we’re…we’re good at, uh, other things,” Sofia said, looking down at her hands, her shoulders hunched. She was actually twiddling her thumbs.

“Yeah,” Elsa said, softly. She just…couldn’t think of any right now.

Anna clutched her head. “Come on! How could you guys not know about this? Are you seriously that unaware?”

“Speaking of,” Elsa shot back, “do you know where your child is?”

Anna stopped. She looked guiltily to the side. “I’m sure Kristoff has her.”

“Hey guys!” Kristoff said, banging the door open and spreading his empty arms wide. Anna hurried over to him and began beating his shoulder. “Get out get out get out you’re making me look bad!” He gave her a confused look. “And here I thought you’d say you missed me.”

He had come back that afternoon, returning from a trip to visit the foundation laying of the new military barracks in the south; though he, Olaf, Sven and Sofia had gone together, he’d sent the snowman and newly appointed royal architect back alone, spending some time with his family in the hills while they returned to his family in the castle. Olaf had been positively ecstatic to meet so many people, even if they were gruff soldiers, and Sven had been on his best behavior, only chewing on a certain pair of stick arms once. Sofia had returned with an eye twitch and a firm mandate that the next person who sang “that _fucking_ song” would be frozen stiff. Kristoff had promised Olaf a gold-dipped carrot if he followed Janice for a week, serenading her the entire time. That week, Anna and Elsa had worn very high-collared dresses and refrained from sitting down to meals, and the commoners had cooed and sighed over the fact that the Princess sent her absent husband floral arrangements every single day, while the household staff hid grins and grimaces behind their hands.

She supposed it was payback from two weeks ago, when Sofia had dropped the soap and they’d all been extremely late to breakfast. Especially since she’d dropped it twice more.

Jinglejinglejinglejinglejinglejinglejinglejingle.

“Never again,” Elsa croaked, and Kristoff had another target for his bewildered expression.

Olaf pushed the carriage forward through the open door with a surprising degree of control, considering how much he loved being around Heidi.

 _“Why Heidi? Well, I could say that it’s because it’s a cute name, or I could sa-it was the 16 hour labor. Sixteen._ Hour. _Labor.”_

He had been utterly delighted to discover that humans, unlike snowmen, didn’t burst into being fully formed, and instead began life as “ _mini people_ oh my gosh she’s so _cute_!” He had endeared himself to both parents for life by being the infant’s constant companion, allowing them to rest while he wiggled his little feet, watching over her in her crib and immediately calming her down whenever she cried. Heidi was now so used to playing with Olaf’s nose that she became confused when she tugged on her father’s and it didn’t come off. Elsa was just as pleased with this budding relationship, as it gave Olaf something to do besides be underfoot at the wrong times (for all she loved her own offspring, he was both unsatisfyingly mobile and intensely curious, a deadly combination), and because there was something adorable about a snowman reading a book about desert animals to her wide-eyed niece.

The bells on the carriage would have to go, though.

“Hey guys!” Olaf cried, wiggling the carriage into position so Heidi faced them, blinking sleepily, bubbles of spit at the corner of her pursed lips. She wasn’t cranky, not yet, but if she didn’t find her way into her mother’s arms in a few moments she would be.

“Ahhhhh, there is my child, thanks Olaf, for bringing her to me, as I asked,” Anna said, leaning down and picking up the four-month-old, who scrunched up her little bootied feet and waggled her arms against Anna’s chest. She blew her daughter air kisses and the girl squealed happily.

“Huh? When did you ask-”

“Olaf,” Kristoff said, peering into the carriage, “did you forget her blankey?”

The snowman clapped his stick hands to his snow cheeks, _into_ his snow cheeks, and gasped in horror. “I did! I just got so excited because Sven and Marshmallow were leaving and I wanted to say goodbye, so I forgot!”

Sofia peered out the window. “He’s gone again? Watch out, Kristoff, or he’ll leave you for good, and no man will want you then.”

“I doubt it,” he said, and wiggled his finger around in front of Heidi’s face. She stared at it, slack-jawed, until he brought it closer, and he mock-gasped as she bit down instantly.

“I’m telling you, you’ll never see that elk again.”

“Reindeer.”

Sofia shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Same thing.”

“You guys stay right here, I’ll go get her blankey!” Olaf took off, and Heidi gave a warbling cry at the sight of the empty door, her tiny face pressed into a pout.

“Aw, honey, it’s okay, he’ll be back,” Sofia crooned, rising and coming up behind Anna. She tapped her fingertips against Heidi’s cheek, and the girl’s wide brown eyes, the color of warm honey, followed her dancing fingers. So young, and yet already she had a growing mop of wispy blonde hair. Kristoff put his hands on his hips and smiled around at the room, at the reindeer-star-carrot mobile hanging over the crib beside the bed, at his sister-in-law, who watched Anna as she rocked her baby, at his other ‘sister-in-law’, who had declared herself completely disinterested in the affairs of children and jumped to her feet whenever Heidi began wailing, at his wife and best friend, who laid a kiss upon their daughter’s head. He blinked and straightened.

“I just realized: this is turning into a goddamn _matriarchy_.”

“I know,” Sofia said with a dreamy sigh, “isn’t it wonderful?”

Heidi began squirming and making soft, plaintive whimpers. She was looking right at Elsa.

“Awww, do you want Auntie Elsa to hold you? Huh? You want Auntie Elsa?” Anna shifted her burden so Heidi was more upright, and the infant lifted her arm and whined, her stubbly little fingers clenching around empty air. Elsa reached out, and Heidi’s hand wrapped around her index finger in a tight grip, the girl still making frustrated noises and frowning.

“Here, take her.” Elsa sucked in a nervous breath as Anna delicately transferred her child into her arms. She was a lot lighter than she looked, and Kristoff chuckled at Elsa’s wide eyes, reaching over to pat Heidi’s back soothingly. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to break her.”

Elsa smiled, her eyes never leaving her niece’s face. “I know.” They’d done this before, but it always felt like the first time.

Heidi scrunched her face up, and Elsa felt her heart melt. “Oh Anna,” she said, stroking a finger softly down Heidi’s bunched cheeks, “she’s just so like you.”

Heidi cooed and gurgled at her. For a moment Elsa was lost in a memory, looking down into a crib where a baby cried and sobbed until she’d sent little snowflakes drifting down, and teal eyes filled with a look of innocent wonder. She’d looked up and the baby was a child, and they had blessed every hallway and room with the sound of their wild laughter that gave way to her solitary screams. So many years ago, a whole lifetime, it seemed, a life of darkness and loneliness and one where ice was always cold and unforgiving, when she’d locked every door and held, trembling, to every key, hoping against all hope that someday there’d be a reason to have kept them. She’d turned around and come face to face with a woman who was a perfect stranger up until the moment she became strangely perfect, and then the ice melted away, along with every reason Elsa could have for not loving her. She remembered the sight of a proud woman, so similar in her differences, so far away at arm’s length, stepping into her world and her life in one smooth motion, neither realizing what was happening until she, too, fell, and now it was the two of them together holding her up, until they stood united, bound to each other, equal in power, in strength, in shining, passionate, quiet, laughing, ever growing love.

She was brought back to the present when Heidi vomited directly on her neck. Someone nearby snorted: Sofia.

Heidi burped and snuggled into Elsa’s chest, clearly pleased with her work and intending to turn in early. Elsa gritted her teeth and glared at her sister. “She’s definitely yours. Both of yours.” Anna gave her a “well duh” shrug while Kristoff just looked proud. “Here,” he said, rummaging through the bedside table, “let me get you a towel for that.”

Heidi drowsily lifted a chubby hand against the puke dribbling down Elsa’s front and it solidified instantly.

The three of them froze, stunned.

Sofia threw her arms in the air. “Jackpot!”

 

**The End**

* * *

 

**After-Credit Stinger:**

Sofia stood staring, open-mouthed, her teacup held in her limp grip, tea dribbling slowly out of it and spattering on the grass, as Sven triumphantly marched into the courtyard with his new herd of enamored does.

 

Two weeks later Marshmallow came back with a large rock.

 

* * *

 

 

**Deleted Scenes:**

_I didn’t hang on to the deleted scenes for other fics, probably because they never got as far, but lucky you, you get some for this one. Usually I cut them because I thought the fic was getting too bloated as is, and because I wasn’t sure where to put them._

 

_Janice and Elsa discuss the melting death of Elsa’s ice horse after she forgot to keep it cold: Elsa tries to console herself by arguing that it’s just an animal. This wouldn’t have worked because canon Elsa clearly sees her creations as alive and cares for their wellbeing. Also, did anyone pick up on the foreshadowing in the third fic about Elsa and Janice discussing the medical properties of tea which Janice kept drinking?_

 

“How is this any different from killing and eating an animal?”

“Well, it’s…” Elsa had to stop and think for a moment. She hadn’t considered it before, but it was an apt comparison: both were being used and consumed for someone’s pleasure, even if one was made of meat and the other of ice and snow. She shook her head. “But don’t you eat meat?”

Janice blew on her tea, and a thin skein of ice grew on it. “No, I do not.” She blew again and the ice dissolved, the tea no longing steaming.

“Oh.” Elsa blinked and sat back. That was something she was going to have to return to at some point. “But it’s still different, isn’t it? I mean, animals are born to other animals, but my creations come from _me_. In some ways, I’m…I’m a mother, aren’t I?”

“Olaf certainly sees you as one.”

Elsa chuckled, but it didn’t feel right. “Olaf would hug a tree and call it ‘Mommy’ if someone had told him snowmen grew out of acorns.”

“Does it matter whom your creations love? I should think the only thing worth asking is if they can love at all. That in and of itself demonstrates your ability to craft not just life, but sentient, rational-” here they both paused and exchanged a look. Janice continued. “As I was saying, _sentient_ life, which means that you would therefore have a responsibility towards it.”

Elsa’s shoulders slumped. “It would, wouldn’t it? And yet I’ve failed in that regard. As always.”

Janice put her teacup down, licking her lips. She smoothed a hand over her mouth thoughtfully.

 

_Very short one: Elsa was going to question herself and her powers and whether she still counts as human in light of the fact that she can create sentient life independent of herself (and sans snowfall; another diversion from canon, as is the case with the ice horse) and more importantly, wonder aloud to her sister if her concern for her creation’s wellbeing and the ethical implications of creating life means that she is, in some respects, like a god. Anna was going to tell her that Janice was all set for this situation, whereas Janice was going to say that she hadn’t the faintest clue what this meant for Elsa, the point being that she’s moved beyond the point where she has to be better or has to be in control, even if she herself doesn’t know it. In this scene, our Anna shows that she is impressed by Janice, but not threatened by her. Meanwhile, Janice’s teaching of Elsa in the beginning was sort of a healing session for her that she wasn’t aware of: she missed out on the chance to do this with her sibling and yet craves it. Anyways, this was as far as I got for this scene before I ditched it._

 

“So ask Janice about it. Heck, she’s probably got a plan all written out.” Anna began ticking her fingers off one by one. “The day I become queen. The day I become empress of all nations. The day I ascend to the heavens above and become God.”

 

_Anna and Janice talk about the first night Janice went through the mirror. I have a bad tendency of wanting so badly to “show” in place of “tell” that I mistake that for “shove in far more dialogue scenes than are probably necessary”; that, and I tend to just have my characters do things a lot, versus think. As you’ve seen above, Janice comes from the future (AND a different dimension; goddamn I should’ve thrown in stuff about a cloning machine and gone 3 for 3!) but has not informed either sister of that. Remember the bit about Janice’s sister “causing mischief”? Yes, I suppose to a sister who still loves her younger sibling, but distractedly, in a land where there are those who do not care for their queen, toppled suits of armor with deadly weapons, sinking ships during festivals and other “accidents” could seem like harmless, idiotic mischief, eh?_

 

“When you first met Elsa,” Anna began, slowly, thinking it through, “you told her your history, and expected her to tell you hers, right? But…not that I’m complaining, it’s just…you’re not always so open about your past, now, so why did you open with it then?”

“Because I thought she already knew my past: I assumed I was just telling her what her future was to become.”

Anna frowned. “Wait, did you think you came from the future? Through the mirror?”

“Not entirely, or at least, not your future,” Janice conceded. She tapped her fingertips on her thigh. “It was clear to me that certain things were already different, just from the way she looked, carried herself, spoke, and reacted to me.” She met Anna’s gaze. “And then there was the way she talked about you.”

“Me?”

Janice paused, and then tilted her head. “You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t know what?”

“She’s told you what happened that first night, except for that? I can’t claim to be too surprised. She’s still trying to protect you from herself. From me.”

Anna groaned and scrubbed her face with her hands. It was far too early, and they’d been following this schedule far too long, for her to feel tired, but the weight settled on her shoulders like a pair of heavy hands pressing down, down, down.

“What happened?”

Janice’s eyes twinkled. “I called you a good for nothing wench.”

Anna’s hands dropped. “Wait, is that it? You called me that last week.”

“That was under entirely different circumstances. But then, as I recall, you liked being _under_ those…circumstances.”

Anna stared at her. “Holy shit you’re both terrible.”

“…excuse me?”

 

 _I had this all typed up and completed before I remembered that this would be happening around 11-12 at night, and it was unlikely that Gerda would be awake then, let alone within calling distance, therefore she should be in bed. I also had planned for Other Gerda to actually be nice, but I figured it’d work better if I showed how Janice, for all she’s master of her domain, is not loved and accepted in her world, making it easier to transition to the Arendelle that_ we _know and love. Gerda being awake in that scenario makes more sense: she was waiting for them to be done, whereas this scene doesn’t work so much. That, and whereas Anna playing the concerned sister helps her credibility, it also sets her up to get caught much more easily; it’s not a good move on her part. Also there’s the whole symbolism of Anna poisoning her sister with the crown and striking her down with the scepter. And the “she had not knocked” thing as an indication that bad shit’s gonna go down._

 

“Gerda!” Anna screamed, hefting her sister up.

The plump woman bolted around the corner and gasped at the sight: the princess, her eyes wild, and the Queen of Arendelle hanging off her arm, mouth hanging open and drool coming out the side. She appeared to be shaking, and a gurgling whine emanated from her throat. Her weight was being entirely supported by her sister, who panted and struggled against it.

“My God! Ann-Princess Anna, what happened?”

“I-I don’t know! She just collapsed! Get Hans! He’ll know what to do!”

“Oh my goodne-yes, your Highness, right away!”

“Tell him to meet me in her study: I need him to find out what’s happened. _Hurry_!”

Anna watched the serving-woman take off, and she shifted, pulling Janice’s arm around her shoulder. The other woman gave a low groan, shaking her head slowly, blood matting the hair at the back of her head. Anna gritted her teeth and stood. She’d already dropped the blackjack out an open window.

“Come along, sister dear,” she muttered, her face hard, steps labored. “It’s time to finish this.”

_I had originally planned a scene where, immediately after Kristoff and Anna finish having sex (missionary position for the sole purpose of procreation, like the sick fucks that they are), Elsa comes in and boots Kristoff out so she can reestablish her claim (Anna was going to joke about how she “laid back and thought about the Queen the entire time”), while Kristoff was crouching at the keyhole, listening to them go at it while masturbating. The punchline was that he would cum on himself, wipe his hand on his pants, and walk off while picking at his teeth. Problem is that I didn’t see anywhere to fit it in without arresting the mood, and it seemed a little creepy on Kristoff’s part (it’s also canon in this fic that Kristoff has a serious boner for Elsa and that Anna helps both herself and Kristoff get off by talking about how hot she is during sex)._

_As she recovers, Janice takes up piano as a means to exercise her fingers. Elsa sits down with her and reveals that though she loves the piano, and played it as a child, she wasn’t very dexterous with her gloves and too afraid to take them off, so she stopped playing. Janice offers to teach her, and they practice together at the same level of skill, as Janice’s fingers are still clumsy. Anna shows up, by this point very noticeably pregnant, with a lute, and demands they make “sweet music together”, hopping up on the piano (which Elsa hastily supports with extra ice columns when it groans) and warming up, chattering excitedly about the “cool song she wrote” for them both. This wouldn’t have worked because Janice would have recovered since then. Since she has heard Anna serenade her before when Elsa was away, she reacts accordingly:_

Anna closed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Me me me me me…”

“Why me,” Janice muttered into the sheet music. Elsa glared at her. “Be _nice_. Besides, Anna is a lovely singer.”

“Oh I’m not disputing that at all, but rather the _other_ parts.” Before Elsa could ask about that, Anna began to sing in a clear, melodious voice.

 

“I was but a poor princess,

As foolish as that sounds,

Until I felt your caress,

Against my quivering mounds

 

My heart, at the lovely sight

Of your shapely legs, it gapes,

Why, on that name, did it alight?

Because they’re made of shapes.

 

And now I can only hope you know,

That, for you, I play this epic lute solo.”

 

As Anna began strumming the strings the same way a dying prisoner clutches the bars of his cage, Janice discreetly leaned over to the horrified queen.

“Music tutor for the kid?”

Elsa shuddered. “Definitely.”

 

_Final one: I considered having a scene wherein a still recovering Janice is practicing with her magic, but having a hard time because her hands keep trembling. So she coyly asks Anna to hold her hands steady while she performs her movements, and eventually it’s Anna who’s moving her hands around and they create something together: I figured Janice would be practicing making her usual ice chair but Anna would struggle with it and end up making a couch and go “hey look it’s a loveseat!” and try to get Janice to sit on it with her and then get up immediately afterward because hey, cold. Elsa and Janice would sit on the couch and Anna would lay across them atop a blanket/cloak, and it would be revealed that, though Elsa created the palace, the design of it sprang from Anna’s mind: Anna, as a child, would have gone around collecting pictures and drawings of various castles where “you and me could go live” and she’d slip them under Elsa’s door and they would stick in her mind until she merged them during the ‘Let it Go’ scene into something real. The point of the scene would be to establish Anna’s spatial intelligence, natural creativity and caring and distinguish it from Elsa’s actual ability to create: the action-focused Anna would see that as more important than her silly drawings, and Janice would realize that hey, maybe she needed an artist for her job as royal architect, and it’d give the two of them a chance to bond. I couldn’t figure out where to put this, but I really liked the idea of Anna putting herself down because her potential is not explored in the same way that Elsa’s is, but growing beyond that when she’s given the chance to work._

_For those of you who might be wondering why Kristoff pranks/snarks at Janice/Sofia, remember back in the second one where Janice/Sofia mentions that he’s perceptive? I decided that the relationship that Kristoff and Sofia have would be one where he gets to pretend she’s the older sister he never had by being the annoying younger sibling she used to know and love, which is why she tolerates it and secretly enjoys it._

_…and that’s all folks!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you interested in what “that fucking song” it was that the soldiers/Olaf sang: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSS5dEeMX64
> 
> So this is the end of my first series/foray into fanfiction. I like where I've put them all now, because I don't think Janice/Sofia would be happy if she was stuck in her own world while her lovers were off in their own, and this way we can have our happy ending, if after some suffering.
> 
> Sidenote: Elsa's wrong, again. The only reason I had things shifted forward in the future was so that thallium could be discovered (as it was in 1861, while Frozen is set in 1840's), but not far enough in the future so that someone who wasn't a scholar like Hans would know about it (like Janice's loyal doctors). As for her claim about the mirror stealing Janice/Sofia's life away and giving it to them, well...that's for you to decide.
> 
> I do have some other ideas in mind for future fics (but I mean like waaaaaay in the future: this was definitely a one-time thing that I’m already paying for, time-wise), ‘cause it turns out that this is kinda fun, especially in the “hiding the goodies/references” kinda way, but I figured I’d stretch my literary wings with some plotless porn first. If you enjoyed it, scha-wing and a hit. If you really enjoyed it, uh, recommend me some people willing to do editing/soundboarding?
> 
> I've read everyone's comments and I love them; I'm just not sure how to respond to praise aside from going "iofhowihwoihohethankyouahahaha", so while I do thank you from the bottom of my heart, in the end I'm more scared of you than you are of me.
> 
> Again, thanks a bunch, and, see you all again soon?


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